The Abducted Super Boxset: A Small Town Kidnapping Mystery

by Roger Hayden

  Trudeau nodded with the tap of his pen and continued. “We’ve talked about letting go of the past and how important that is for you.”

  “Ah, bullshit!” Walter bellowed, cutting in. “That’s just what people who haven’t suffered say. They think it’s just something we can turn off like a light switch.” He paused, flabbergasted, and then began counting off with his fingers. “Never mind the wife that I lost, the job that fired me, and the friends who turned their back on me, all because of a lie.”

  “But you were attracted to this girl, yes?” Trudeau asked, well aware that he was tossing fuel on the fire.

  Walter rose from his comfortable position and turned back to Trudeau again, shocked by the question. “I told you that she looked much older than sixteen, but she was my neighbor’s daughter! I would’ve never touched her.”

  “But you did,” Trudeau continued.

  Walter shifted around, flummoxed, and sat up, wiping a hand down his clean-shaven, acne-scarred face. “You know, you sound like one of those investigators. You wanna see my text log again, Officer? You wanna see how she came onto me?”

  Trudeau set his legal pad down and crossed his legs with a patient demeanor. “There’s no judgment here, Walter. I’ve told you that from day one. You have literally nothing to hide from me. This is the place you go to discuss your life openly and honestly. I’m not interested in conjuring up the past. I’m only interested in mending those wounds that are preventing you from enjoying a healthy future.”

  Walter remained sitting up, legs off the chair and onto the plush gray carpet. He looked to the door, but Trudeau knew that he wasn’t going anywhere. The court had mandated their appointments. Though the charge of inappropriate conduct with a minor hadn’t branded him a sexual predator, it was still enough to destroy his marriage and send him away from home in search of a new start. The sixteen-year-old in question had admittedly flirted with Walter to the point of infatuation. In the end, she had accused him of assault, with no proof beyond her words. But by then, the damage had been done.

  “You sound like one of those self-help dopes on TV,” Walter said. “Look at me. I’m working as a bagger at the only place in town that will hire me. I’ve got no prospects. I can barely make rent. I’ve got nothing. No one!”

  “And you sound like someone who can’t stop feeling sorry for themselves,” Trudeau retorted with ease.

  “What did you say?” Walter asked, leaning forward. “You think this is about pity?”

  “Answer my question,” Trudeau said. “What do you want out of life? Happiness? Wealth…” He paused while lowering his tone. “Revenge?”

  Walter stared at Trudeau briefly and then looked away, furiously scratching his head on both sides. “These questions mean nothing. None of this means a damn thing.”

  “But it does, Walter. Everything means everything.”

  Walter looked astonished. “There you go again, talking gibberish. I want a new therapist.”

  “What if I told you that you could have it all? A chance to show the system and the people how flawed they really are. In three sessions, I’ve seen things in you, Walter. Things that no one else can appreciate. I can utilize this potential in you, and together we can take this unfortunate hand you’ve been dealt and turn it into something magnificent.”

  Through sheer curiosity, Walter ended his protest and leaned back against the chair, grabbing the pillow to his side and holding it against his chest. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. How can you promise these things? You don’t even really know me.”

  Trudeau suddenly stood up and paced over to the window, closing the blinds. “But I do. I understand your sense of loss more than you can imagine.” He then swiveled around and looked Walter directly in the eye. “Have I ever told you about my daughter?”

  The discussion grew from there as Trudeau revealed only scant details of a plan that would shake the community to its core. Ever tactful, he only alluded to an opportunity to make a lot of money while embarrassing the Ector County Police Department and exposing them as the blisteringly ineffective force that they were. There was little doubt in his mind that Walter would go for it in the end, but he had to approach the issue with the utmost delicacy, one session after the other, driving the point home that revenge against the system was a certainty toward righting the wrong against Walter. “Justice against injustice,” he had put it. From there, everything seemed to fall into place.

  Standing shirtless in front of the mirror with the bloody bandages removed, Dr. Trudeau dabbed around his shoulder wound with antiseptic, squinting as the pain intensified with the slightest touch. He then poured a small bottle of saline over the small, black, inflamed hole. He wasn’t physically stronger than any other man, he supposed, and wasn’t ashamed to wrestle with the fear growing in the pit of his stomach at what was to come next.

  He raised a syringe filled with Novocain and brought the needle close to his shoulder, just outside the wound. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and injected the substance while fighting back shrieks of agony. He dropped the syringe into the sink and then pulled out a scalpel and a long, thin pair of tweezers, prepared to pull out Miriam’s bullet.

  Command Center

  Emerging from the underground room, Miriam rushed through the garage, directly past Tara, and into the house toward the kitchen. Tara called out to her, surprised, but there was no time for Miriam to stop and explain. She had to call Lou and warn him. The pictures on Trudeau’s wall of her and her family left her no choice. It was happening all over again—another madman setting his sights on those who were closest to her.

  She ran to the kitchen counter where the cordless phone rested in its charger and set the notebook and scrapbook down, catching her breath.

  Tara entered the kitchen and cautiously approached the panicked Miriam with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Miriam turned around, phone in hand and out of breath from the run up the stairs. “I’m sorry,” she said, bowing her head. “I have to call home right away.”

  “Why?” Tara asked, stepping forward. “What did you see?”

  Miriam took another breath, trying to calm herself and not worry Tara. “It’s okay. Just a precaution. Can you please watch for the police and let me know when they get here?”

  Tara hesitated and then turned and walked away toward the foyer. Miriam held the phone up and dialed Lou, stricken with anxiety. It had to be at least ten or eleven o’clock at night, and she hated calling him under duress. He had warned her about assisting Ector County, implying that she wasn’t ready for it.

  Hadn’t she learned her lesson from the Snatcher case? Why on earth would she circumvent procedures and put herself and her family in danger again? She could already hear his words coming back at her as the phone rang, hoping only that he’d pick up.

  “Hello?” his tired voice said at last.

  “Lou, it’s me. I’m so sorry about the hour.”

  “Miriam?” he said, surprised. “I’ve been trying to reach you all night. Where have you been? What happened?”

  “I’m fine. A lot has happened, but I’m okay.”

  “I can hear something in your voice. What is it?” he said.

  Miriam held back her tears and remained calm. Lou deserved the truth, hard as it was. “There’s no signal out here. I’m calling you from a landline phone,” she began, pausing as her heart rate steadied. “There’s been a breakthrough in the case. Trudeau. He was behind it all.” She expected Lou’s stunned disbelief on the other end, and he didn’t disappoint.

  “What are you talking about? The therapist?”

  Lou was probably distracted with student papers, the next day’s lesson, and taking care of Ana while she was away. They were currently in two different worlds, and she hoped more than anything for it to stay that way.

  “We found his address,” she continued. “The girls… they were here, locked in an underground cellar.”

  “Oh my God…” Lou said.

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nbsp; Miriam felt along her chest, still sore from the beanbag round. She offered only scant details on what had happened. That was better left for another time. “He escaped with one of the girls. He’s gone.”

  Lou’s astonished tone crackled through the line. “What? How?”

  “I don’t know. I shot him, Lou. I shot him, but he got away.”

  “Miriam, listen to me. This needs to end now. We need to get you home. Have you called your captain yet?”

  She hesitated, phone shaking in her hand. “It’s not that simple, Lou. Trudeau has been watching me. He’s been watching you, me, and Ana for months. He’s been stalking us.”

  She could hear Lou moving around the room, frantic. “Stalking us? Why? What are you saying?”

  She had a hard time believing it herself, but the pictures were clear. Miriam and her family had been in Trudeau’s sights for some time, and with him on the run, she feared the worse.

  “You know the procedures, Lou, and you know what’s right. You and Ana need to go somewhere safe until we find him.”

  “That’s not happening,” he said outright.

  “Lou, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. My flight doesn’t leave for another day, but I can’t even think straight right now, knowing that you and Ana could be in danger.”

  She heard him pacing their bedroom, clearly at odds with the situation, with the television on now in the background.

  “It’s just a precaution,” she continued, “but it’s one worth taking.”

  “Why would he come here? This is the last place he would want to go.”

  “I don’t know what he has planned. I only know the horrible things he’s capable of,” she said, pleading.

  “I can protect this house just fine. Now come home and let those investigators do their job.”

  “Lou, please listen to me. It’s the only way.”

  “No, Miriam. It’s time to call it quits.”

  Tara suddenly called out from the living room. “The police are here. I see lights.”

  “I have to go, Lou,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. She gazed at her engagement ring, fearing the fallout of the case. Their safety notwithstanding, she wondered if their relationship would survive the growing rift evident that evening. “Please take Ana somewhere safe just for a day or two until I return. I’m sorry that I’ve put you both in danger.”

  Lou sighed. “You haven’t put us in danger. This Trudeau guy clearly had it out for you from the beginning. But it’s up to you now to walk away. I’m asking you.”

  “I need information,” she said.

  “You’re not listening to me,” he continued.

  “Please,” she said, voice raised.

  Silence came on the other end as she wiped her face, hearing the outside sirens grow closer. “I don’t believe he is who he says he is. You can find out. I know you can.”

  “So, you need my help again?” he said, bluntly.

  She hesitated, sensing his attitude. “I do. He still has another girl.”

  “And you want me to take Ana and hole up somewhere?”

  “I’m concerned…” she said. “I’m sorry for all of this. I truly am.”

  Another sigh, and Lou conceded, just barely. “I’ll do my best, Miriam. But part of me doesn’t think you’re sorry at all.”

  With that, he told her goodbye and hung up, frustration seething in his tone. She set the phone down, not feeling very good about herself for the moment. She understood his anger and reluctance. He hadn’t wanted any of it. But they were a part of the case from the beginning, no matter how much either of them protested it.

  Blue and red lights flashed wildly inside the house as Miriam joined Tara in the living room, standing by the window. She could see Detective Hayes’s Crown Victoria along with several Land Cruisers and police cars, all pulling directly into the yard near the front deck. A cloud of dust drifted by the window from the hasty arrival and exhaust of their vehicles.

  Miriam placed a comforting hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll get in touch with your parents and get you home.”

  Tara looked up, concerned. “You said that you were in danger.”

  “No, we’re fine,” Miriam said, waving Tara off. “They’ll find Trudeau soon and get April back.”

  “What did you call him?” Tara asked.

  “Dr. Trudeau? Nicholas Trudeau?”

  Tara shrugged, and Miriam suddenly realized that the girl didn’t even know the name of her captor. “He never said a name?” she asked.

  Tara shook her head as the vehicle doors opened outside and investigators poured out, approaching the house with purpose.

  “Never got there,” Tara said. “I only saw him twice.” She then tugged at Miriam’s shirt as Miriam looked down from the window. “Why did he take April?”

  Miriam took Tara’s hand and squeezed it. “I don’t know, dear. I’d like to think that he didn’t want to be alone.”

  “Is he going to hurt her?” Tara asked.

  “No. We’re going to catch him and then April will be back with her family just like you.”

  “I miss my mom,” Tara said, transfixed by the flashing lights.

  “I know. We’ll get you home soon,” Miriam said, walking toward the front door to meet the detectives.

  She opened it just as Hayes and Shelton walked up the steps, their sleeves rolled up, ties undone, and soot all over their faces and clothing. Clearly exhausted, the other investigators and some of the police behind them didn’t look much better. It had been a long, hellish night for everyone involved, and Miriam prepared herself for the litany of questions that were soon to follow.

  An ambulance pulled up to the front of the house just as Miriam stepped aside, letting the detectives enter. Tara ran around the corner to see everyone, but then seemed nervous by the presence of so many strangers. She stood beside Miriam for cover and grabbed her hand.

  The men walked in, displaying the aftermath of working the van explosion. With gray stubble on his cheeks and his intense blue eyes, Detective Hayes was the first of the investigators to look at Miriam, eyes widening upon seeing a girl at her side. The group of about ten stormed inside, hands at their sides near their pistols and handheld radios affixed to their shoulders, buzzing about with chatter.

  Miriam received passing glances as Detective Shelton approached her, his button-down shirt dirty and sweat-stained. Hayes blew directly past her, leading the other detectives inside, announcing to the group as though he was in charge.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get a sweep of the house, but don’t touch anything yet. We’ve got Forensics coming out here and you can bet your dollar that the FBI will be here in the morning. This is headquarters for now.”

  The group dispersed in all directions as Hayes pivoted from the kitchen and walked back to the living room where Miriam waited with Tara at her side. His eyes narrowed with the shake of his head and a look that seemed to view Miriam as a foreign entity.

  “We need to talk,” he said, leaning closer.

  Miriam looked at Shelton for guidance, but his lack of response only confirmed that it was time to answer for her actions. She looked down at Tara, who seemed confused by all the activity.

  “Gentlemen, this is Tara McKenzie, a very brave girl,” Miriam said, holding up Tara’s hand, “and we need to get in touch with her parents.”

  Hayes and Shelton both looked down, and Hayes knelt eye level with Tara almost immediately and shook her hand with a smile. “Hi there. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Tara said. “I’m better now.”

  “We’ve got some paramedics here, and they’re going to check you out, okay?” Hayes continued.

  “Okay. Can I talk to my mom and dad?”

  “Of course, sweetie,” Miriam added.

  Hayes then pointed to the couch over Tara’s shoulder, the same one she’d been lying on earlier. “Why don’t you have a seat, and they’ll talk to you.”
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  Tara pulled at Miriam’s arm in protest. “I don’t want Miriam to go. She saved me.”

  Hayes spoke with patient understanding. “I know. Could we talk to her for just a few minutes?”

  Tara looked up at Miriam for guidance as Miriam gave a nod. “Okay,” Tara said. “But don’t take too long.”

  A male and female paramedic suddenly walked in wearing dark blue uniforms and carrying medical kits. Miriam ushered them into the living room and motioned them toward the couch where Tara waited. The duo knelt on both sides of Tara and began to check her vitals.

  Miriam turned to both detectives, exhausted but shaking with adrenaline. “Ready?”

  They both nodded, and she told Tara and the paramedics that they’d return shortly. Exiting the living room, Miriam led the detectives toward the garage as investigators searched through the house inside and out.

  As they entered, Miriam glanced at the cans stacked in the middle of the floor near the empty cabinet pushed from the wall. Hayes and Shelton paused and looked at the strange sight as Miriam closed the door and walked toward the open crawlspace entrance.

  “What happened in here?” Hayes asked, following her.

  “Trudeau has two underground rooms that I know of,” she said. “One under the garage and the other off the kitchen pantry.”

  Fascinated, Shelton pulled out his cell phone and scanned the area, recording it on video. He then approached the circuit breaker with careful curiosity in his step.

  “The red switch opens and closes the entrance,” Miriam said.

  In response, Shelton flipped the switch, closing the crawlspace entrance and sealing it off as though it was never there.

  “That’s fascinating, but first, we need to talk,” Hayes said directly to Miriam with a long-faced, serious expression that told her all was not well. “Three detectives are dead. Detective Dawson survived, but he’s in pretty bad shape. The rest of his team were all air-lifted to the hospital.”