The Abducted Super Boxset: A Small Town Kidnapping Mystery

by Roger Hayden

Tara’s head felt warm, too warm, and Miriam was worried. The confines of the basement and whatever abuse had befallen the girl had left her in a fragile, disoriented state. They reached the top of the stairs, emerging from the secret room inside the pantry. Miriam walked carefully into the kitchen, keeping cautious watch. As far as she knew, Trudeau lived alone, but she couldn’t be certain of anything. Silverware and broken glass littered the tiled floor in addition to Trudeau’s blood.

  She was confident that he wouldn’t get very far, certainly not with a gunshot wound. He’d have to go to a hospital, unless of course he was more resourceful than she knew. She knew that psychiatrists were medical doctors, unlike psychologists, which meant that he might have enough skill to treat himself. Trudeau’s motives were a mystery, but the house he left behind was a treasure trove of clues that could possibly disclose where he had gone.

  Miriam carried Tara to the living room and gently placed her on the couch.

  “Stay here. I’ll get you a glass of water,” she said, feeling Tara’s head.

  Tara suddenly reached out in a panic. “No! Don’t leave me.”

  “It’s okay,” Miriam said, hugging her. “I’m just going to the kitchen. You need to take it easy until the ambulance gets here.”

  Tara lowered her arms in a daze and remained lying on the couch, her head propped against a pillow.

  “I’ll be right back,” Miriam said with a smile, walking away.

  Once out of view, she hurried to the spacious dining room with wide windows that revealed a vast night sky of twinkling stars. She pulled a pair of blue latex gloves from her pocket and slipped them on. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave fingerprints on everything. To begin her brief sweep of the house, she bypassed the kitchen and walked down a hallway to her right, which had three rooms on each side.

  Miriam held her pistol out and went to the first door and pushed it open. The room was dark until she flicked the light switch, lighting the bulbs of an overhead ceiling fan. Across from her on the plush carpet, she saw a perfectly made twin-sized bed with a nightstand and dresser drawers off on the side. There were framed paintings of flowers on the wall and an open closet with boxes inside, but little more.

  The room was also spotless, untouched, seemingly a guest room. She went to the next room, where there was a computer desk, large bookshelf, and leather reading chair with an elegant standing lamp. An office. From the hall, she moved carefully past the room and into a sleek bathroom with two sinks, a large, jet-pressured bathtub, and standing shower. There was no doubt that Trudeau had some money. Was it a testament to his success as a therapist, or were other explanations behind his apparent wealth? Miriam was determined to find out.

  She past the additional bedrooms on the other side of the hallway, resembling each other with their made beds, minimal furnishings, clean carpets, and framed artwork. It was hard to tell the guest rooms from the room Trudeau actually lived in. Each room had a distinct color arrangement from the wall paint to the furniture itself: red, blue, white, or green. She also noticed that Trudeau didn’t have any pictures on the walls or anywhere else of friends or family. He seemed to be a loner in every sense of the word.

  But Miriam wasn’t there to investigate Trudeau’s interior decorating skills. She needed to find evidence that would help lead to his capture. Somewhere, there was a method to his crimes. She returned to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from a cupboard, filling it up at the faucet. Deep in thought, she suddenly noticed a cordless landline telephone at the edge of the counter near some junk mail. She set the glass of water down and rushed toward it with relief. Her cell phone had lost signal some time ago. Now there was new hope.

  She was elated to hear a dial tone. Detective Hayes and Shelton needed to know what had happened. But would they even believe her? Dr. Trudeau had managed to deceive the entire department. His involvement in the case now explained how he had always been a step ahead of them. Miriam wondered if there was anyone else involved or if Trudeau was the only conspirator left.

  Miriam called Hayes’s cell first, expecting swift admonishment over her rogue tactics. He and Shelton were both still dealing with the aftermath of the disastrous van explosion. Miriam had left the scene in secret in one of the department’s Land Cruisers, and she knew they’d be upset with her. They had every right to be. She braced herself as Hayes’s line rang repeatedly, but it eventually went to voice mail. “Damn…” she said.

  She hung up and dialed Detective Shelton next, from the number on her call log. Shelton answered on the third ring, his voice barely audible over the sound of sirens in the background.

  “This is Shelton,” he said loudly.

  “Detective, it’s me. Lieutenant Sandoval.”

  “What?” he said. “Who?” His breathing increased as he appeared to move away from the noise the best he could. She heard a car door slam and then everything went quiet.

  “It’s Lieutenant Sandoval!” she repeated.

  After a pause, he spoke in a befuddled tone. “Ma’am? What… Where are you? I heard that you left. What the hell happened?”

  “I know,” she said. “Listen. This is very important.”

  He cut quickly in. “I thought we promised to work together here, to be on the same page. What is it now?”

  “I found him!” she said, then lowered her voice while looking to the living room. “I had my suspicions but wanted to make sure.”

  “You found who?” he asked, skeptical. “Look. We’ve got three deceased detectives here from Midland PD. Dawson’s badly injured.”

  Miriam stuck to her account despite Shelton’s growing impatience with her.

  “I found the man who’s responsible. Do you understand? I’m at his house right now. Dr. Trudeau. It was him all along.” Stunned silence filled the other end, and she knew that he was going to take a fair amount of convincing. “He doesn’t live too far from where you’re at. It explains everything. He had both girls locked in a basement.”

  Shelton said nothing in response as she continued.

  “Someone was getting info on this case from the inside. I had to make a choice. The gamble paid off. He had the two girls locked in the basement, but unfortunately he got away with April.”

  She expected Shelton to say something, anything, but he remained silent. She even had to ask him if he was still there.

  “Yes, I’m here. What you’re telling me, it’s…”

  “Insane,” Miriam answered. “I know. I had a hunch, that’s all. I just didn’t expect that he’d attack me.”

  “And this hunch. You couldn’t have shared it with me or Detective Hayes? Do you realize how much danger you put yourself in? We’re responsible for your safety, remember? I’m afraid we’re going to have to pull you from this case. Things have gotten out of control.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective. I don’t mean to worry you, but you have to understand that I had to pursue Trudeau alone without anyone knowing. That’s the only way I could ensure that he’d be here.”

  Shelton seemed flabbergasted at such an idea. “Do you honestly believe that any one of us could be working with Trudeau?”

  “How would I know?” Miriam said, “I told you from day one that I operate on instincts.”

  “Where are you?” he bluntly asked.

  “I’m at 1515 Keely Drive,” she said. “It’s a ranch house all by itself, but fairly close to your location, like I said. The bastard was probably watching with glee as you surrounded the van.”

  “I’ll see what we can pull together and get there ASAP. What about the other girl?”

  “Tara?” Miriam said. “She’s fine. Just a little shaken up, that’s all. We need an ambulance out here to make sure though.”

  Shelton’s voice faded as the signal began to drop.

  “I’m losing you,” Miriam said.

  “I know,” he replied. “I said that we’ll get to her soon. Just wait for us there.”

  “We need to put an APB out on a silver Mercedes,” Mi
riam said, with urgency. “Send his license plate to every department out there.”

  “I’ll do what I can. If you’ve got a signal, call the station and let them know.”

  “I will,” Miriam said.

  She thanked him and got off the phone, relieved that he had answered. She searched for the Odessa police station’s number on her phone and stopped at Lou’s name. He’d be just as shocked as Shelton had been. But the sooner the APB was issued, the better chance they’d have to stop Trudeau. She dialed the station and sighed with relief as Corporal Taylor answered. She trusted him.

  “Odessa Police Department, Corporal Taylor speaking. How may I help you, sir or ma’am?”

  “Hello, Corporal, it’s Lieutenant Sandoval.”

  There was a pause on his end. They had spoken not too long ago.

  “How can I help you, Ma’am?” he said, all business.

  “I need you to put an APB out on a silver Mercedes. I don’t have the license plate, but you can check your database. It’s Dr. Trudeau’s car.”

  He sounded just as surprised as she had expected. “Excuse me? Dr. Nicholas Trudeau?”

  “That’s correct. He fled the scene with one of the kidnapped girls, April Johnson, and should be considered armed and dangerous.”

  “Oh my gosh…” Taylor said.

  “And don’t release any of this to the news yet. Keep it quiet,” she added. “Understand?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, seemingly snapping back to reality. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thank you, Corporal.”

  Miriam hung up, prepared to call Lou, when she heard April get up from the living room and walk into the kitchen. “What’s wrong, dear?” she said. “You should be resting.” She approached Tara and handed her a glass of water.

  “I don’t want to be here anymore,” Tara said, taking a sip. “I want to go home.”

  Miriam took Tara by the hand and led her back to the living room.

  “We will soon, I promise. We have to wait for the police. Do you know your parents’ phone numbers? Any way we can reach them?”

  Tara shook her head. “I don’t know. The man took my cell phone.”

  They returned to the couch, across from the fireplace, and sat down together.

  “Where are we, exactly?” Tara said, looking around in surprise.

  “Just outside Odessa,” Miriam said. “Not far from Midland.” She held Tara close and could still feel her trembling. She needed to find a blanket or something to put Tara at ease. There was a closet near the garage door full of them.

  “Is there anyone else here?” Tara asked.

  “No,” Miriam answered, brushing her hair back. “I checked every room. He left in a hurry.” She paused and squeezed Tara’s hand. “We’ll find April though. Don’t worry.”

  Tara nodded and curiously looked around. “I heard him say that he has another secret room.”

  “What do you mean?” Miriam said, excitedly.

  Tara thought to herself with a troubled look. “He said that one of us would see it soon enough, but that he hadn’t made his mind up yet which of us it would be.” As Tara continued, Miriam hung on every word of her harrowing recollection. “April said he hadn’t harmed her yet, but couldn’t be sure because she couldn’t stay awake very long.

  “She told me that there was probably something in our food or drinks, so I refused to eat or drink anything he brought down.” Tara’s eyes remained on the empty fireplace with a vacant stare. “He said that if I didn’t behave, he’d separate us and lock me in his other underground room, away from April.”

  Miriam considered the possibilities. Trudeau had many secrets, and an unseen room could very well be the key in exposing them. She touched Tara’s shoulder and leaned closer. “This room… Did he ever say where it was? Did he ever show it to you?”

  Tara closed and opened her eyes with a deep breath. “I never saw anything but our room. But April… she told me that he had mentioned something about the room being under the garage. Called it his bunker.”

  Miriam perked up and rose from the couch, looking into Tara’s eyes and holding both her hands. “What else did April say? It’s important that you try to remember every detail.”

  Tara nodded, but her memory seemed hazy. “She only mentioned it once. Said that was where he spent a lot of his time.”

  How much did April know about Trudeau? Perhaps that’s why he chose to take her over Tara. It could have been just words, a game he was playing with the girls, but something told Miriam that she still needed to find the room and take a long look.

  “Wait here,” she said, releasing Tara’s hands. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I want to go with you,” Tara said.

  Miriam looked around the living room, hesitant. She didn’t want to leave Tara, but the girl was in no condition to move around, or so Miriam believed. “We need to call your parents. Are you sure you don’t remember their number?” Tara had said it was a cell phone, so finding the number could be difficult. Not like the old days of operator assistance.

  “I’m not sure,” Tara said. Her expression then dropped as though a troubling memory had just entered her mind. “I was trying to call my mom when he took me. These hands came out of nowhere and covered my mouth. I couldn’t breathe.” She lowered her head, pulling at her fingers, and stopping when her eyes fell on the gauze wrapped around her index finger, which had been reduced now to a nub. “My finger… it’s gone. I can’t believe that it’s really gone!” She covered her face, sobbing as tears fell from her eyes.

  Miriam leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Tara, rubbing her back. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this. The police will notify your parents soon, and everyone will know that you’re okay.”

  Tara sobbed into Miriam’s shirt. “I wasn’t even awake when he did it. I just woke up with half my finger gone. Why did he do that to me?”

  Miriam tried her best to console her, but didn’t have the answer.

  “I can’t even remove the bandage,” Tara cried. “I’m too scared to look!”

  Miriam rose and placed her hands on the girl’s trembling shoulders while speaking calmly. “Tell you what. Would you like to come with me and be my lookout?”

  “Do you think he might come back?” Tara asked, color returning to her face.

  “No,” Miriam answered. “But we still have to be careful.”

  Tara stood up, eager to get started. “Should we take this?” she said, holding a red plastic flashlight.

  “Where did you get that?” Miriam asked, surprised.

  “Right here next to the couch on this lamp stand.”

  Miriam took the flashlight and looked up at the creepy deer-head busts on the wall, whose glass eyes always seemed to be watching her. She flicked the flashlight on and off, testing it. It worked fine, and she wondered what it had been doing sitting right there on the lamp stand. There must be a reason. The cavalry was on its way, and she imagined that the house would soon be filled with police.

  “Come on,” she said, walking toward the garage door off near the foyer. “Let’s see what we can find.”

  Secret Room

  Miriam opened the door into the garage and shined the flashlight inside. The automatic garage door was closed. There were no vehicles despite a space large enough to fit two cars. She found a nearby light switch and turned on several ceiling lights that brightened the entire garage.

  Three tall cabinets about six feet high stood opposite them and against the wall, shelves packed with canned goods, batteries, and a stockpile of random supplies. It wasn’t clear whether Trudeau was preparing for a natural disaster or the apocalypse, but he didn’t seem to take the preparation lightly.

  Miriam felt along the thick gray walls of the garage. The space around her was orderly as all the other rooms. A line of plastic lawn chairs sat next to three trash cans. Garden hoses and extension cords were coiled and hooked onto the walls next to rakes, shovels
, and hedge clippers neatly hanging in order. A mountain bicycle stood upright on its kickstand next to what looked like some kind of air compressor.

  A few boxes sat stacked in the corner, marked “clothes,” “supplies,” and “nonperishables.” The more Miriam thought about it, the more it seemed Trudeau was prepared to run. But he wasn’t able to take it all. Her unannounced visit must have taken him completely by surprise.

  She examined a fresh oil stain on the ground, assuming it to have been from the Mercedes that was parked inside not long ago. She then scanned the cement floor for lines, cracks, or anything resembling a trap door or crawl space, but there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

  “What do you think?” Tara asked, staring at the shelves of supplies.

  “I don’t know,” Miriam answered. “If there’s a bunker under here, the entrance is certainly well hidden.”

  She thought of what Trudeau had written in Inside the Mind of a Man Child, the book he had signed and given to her that day. Miriam had flipped through it during their earlier watch for the kidnapper’s van. In the chapter on self-discovery, he had mentioned seeking the “hidden rooms of the mind” in response to unrest and hardship. “Escape” could then be accessed through the promise of relief within these mental rooms. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but Miriam sensed a connection between Trudeau’s words and the secrets buried within the house.

  A calendar hanging on the wall caught her attention: a picture of a beautiful beach sunset beyond two palm trees with a hammock tied them between. The image contrasted greatly with the sterile gray of the garage, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to it. She approached, looking at the rows of days of March, each square marked with an X, up to the current date. Miriam found the meticulous marking of days curious. Was he counting down to something in particular? She pulled the calendar away from the nail it hung from and flipped through the previous months. They were marked with X’s as well.

  “What is it?” Tara asked.

  Miriam turned around, holding the calendar. “Nothing. It’s just weird.” She stopped at July, where tiny letters were written in one of the days: finalize construction. Short on specifics, the reminder could have meant anything. She flipped forward to August and found another message among the X’s that marked every square: install storage cabinets. There seemed to be a connection, strange as it was, but Miriam felt as if she was on to something. She placed the calendar back onto the wall and walked along the shelves, eyeing their contents from top to bottom.