Riddles that Kill: a gripping paranormal mystery

by Lois D. Brown

  Back inside the house, Rod was about to sit down at the table again when Maria headed down the hallway to Justin’s room. “Can you be my witness?” she asked Rod.

  “For what,” Rod said.

  “I’m going to go back into the bedroom again to check if there are any clues that might help us catch the kidnapper immediately. Stuff like that is best done in pairs so no one—not even law enforcement—has an opportunity to mess with the crime scene.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Maria and Rod entered Justin’s bedroom together. A bookshelf full of assembled Star Wars Lego kits was prominently displayed in the middle of the wall. Justin’s only attempt at decorating. A couple pairs of dirty socks lay on the floor by his closet. A handful of Nerf darts were shoved into a corner. It was the room of any average eight-year-old kid whose mother didn’t make a fuss over his room. Nothing indicated something heinous had just happened there.

  To take a child from his bed, under the very roof where his parents slept?

  Maria’s anger flared. It was brazen and … evil. Justin didn’t deserve this. No child did. He must be overwhelmed. She had to do everything she could to get him back.

  Absolutely everything.

  “I’m going to look around the bed,” said Maria. “Maybe the kidnapper dropped something.”

  “Okay.” Rod’s voice was anxious. “I … I can’t believe this happened. Not to Beth’s family—everyone loves her. It’s crazy.” He shook his head. “I mean, kids just don’t go missing in Kanab.”

  “I know.” Maria nodded. “Something feels really off.” Part of her ached for a moment of physical contact between her and Rod. Not something mushy and drawn out, but just a reassuring pat on the shoulder would boost her spirit. The stress and responsibility she felt to get Justin back grew every second.

  But there was no chance of Rod touching her. The man was there to help Beth, as was she. What Maria really needed was focus.

  Maria leaned over the bed, unmade with the blankets pulled back. Her eyes scoured the Batman sheets for a stray hair, a speck of dirt, a wrapper, a coin—anything that might have fallen out of the pocket of the kidnapper.

  Please, let there be something here.

  That’s when she saw it. Something poked out from underneath Justin’s pillow. She slipped on a pair of latex gloves, lifted the pillow with one hand, and retrieved the object with the other.

  It was an envelope. The ransom note. It had to be.

  Not wanting to touch the envelope seal (in case there was saliva on it), Maria used a pair of scissors to cut the side of the envelope open and pull out a folded sheet of paper.

  “Got it,” she said as Rod watched her, seemingly holding his breath.

  Carefully she opened the letter. The message had been printed on twenty-pound stock paper with no identifying markings. Ink was black. Everything had been kept generic. The words read:

  To Chief Maria Branson,

  This letter is for your eyes only. Solve the riddle in seven days’ time and you will find the boy. No negotiations.

  What you seek is in a bottle of fun with one player missing.

  Open the lid.

  South will find SA64HQ965DJ52C654

  East is next.

  North comes third.

  Go West and you will find what you desire.

  Beware. The monster awaits.

  “No. No. No.” Maria closed her eyes and tilted her head backward. Had she been alone she would have screamed. Long and loud. As it was, her scream was silent but just as painful.

  This had to be some kind of joke. The letter was addressed to her, not Justin’s parents. There was no request for money. Only some stupid, nonsensical riddle. Why did these things happen to her? What would she tell Beth?

  Hey, so it looks like the ransom note is actually for me. Someone wants me to solve a riddle.

  How insane did that sound?

  “What is it?” asked Rod, moving toward her.

  Maria’s heart sank. It was happening again. She was putting others in danger. It was like her black ops team. One by one the people around her in Kanab were having bad things happen to them. Rod’s nightmare in Arizona. Now Beth’s child had been taken. It always came back to her. She was the source of so much misery.

  “It’s a letter.” Maria nearly gagged on the words. “It’s addressed to me.”

  “What? Why is it addressed to you?”

  “I don’t know, but someone left it for me.” Her voice shook. “It’s a riddle. A stupid, stupid riddle.”

  “A riddle?” Rod inched closer to see the letter.

  Maria held it up for him to see. The warning that the letter was for her eyes only was moot. She would give the note to the FBI as soon as they arrived.

  His eyes scanned the paper up and down, then up and down again. “Huh, you’re right. But I have no idea what it means. Strange. How does Justin have anything to do with this?”

  The truth of the matter was that this probably had very little to do with Justin. He was being held to help manipulate Maria or possibly Kanab’s law enforcement.

  “I don’t think this is your regular kidnapping. There is something else going on here. At least, so far the perpetrator hasn’t been following the rules.” Maria’s hand holding the letter started to shake. She quickly lowered it so Rod couldn’t see that her nerves were starting to kick in.

  “So, no money extortion?”

  Maria shook her head. “Doesn’t look like it. That should have been obvious to me from the beginning. I mean, Beth and her husband are employed as a hair dresser and store manager. They have no big savings account. No stocks or million-dollar investments.”

  “You’re right. But then what are they after?” Rod scratched at his facial hair, stopped, and then did it again.

  “I don’t know.” Maria’s voice had dwindled to a whisper. All she could think about was facing Beth and explaining to her that her son had been kidnapped for some random reason that must have something to do with Maria. The police chief. The freak. A walking time bomb to anyone who knew her.

  “Should we tell Beth …” Rod’s words drifted.

  “Yes. I’ll go do it now.” Maria’s shoulders sagged as she exited the room. The weight of Justin’s life pressed down on them.

  There was no sleep that night for half the town of Kanab. By morning, entire neighborhoods had formed search parties to look for Justin. School was cancelled and parents kept their children home, petrified there was a kidnapper on the loose.

  So far, there were few leads.

  Someone had seen a couple kids riding in a car with an adult not too long past midnight. But since there were no other reports of missing children, the lead was probably nothing more than a family traveling late at night, probably on their way to the Grand Canyon or Las Vegas.

  One hotel guest said he’d heard a ruckus going on in the room next to him in the middle of the night. When the suspicious noises were investigated, it was just a family touring the area whose son suffered from night terrors.

  Someone else said they saw a gang of teenagers out late. When kids were questioned, they explained they were simply hiking “K” Hill at night. That answer stung Maria, but she moved on. This was no time to dwell on her falling out with Rod.

  Deep down, Maria knew the leads wouldn’t pan out. The person who had left her the riddle had planned the crime. He or she was smart. Calculating. Someone who had a plan and who expected to execute it flawlessly.

  It was Maria’s job to put a wrench in the gears of whatever it was that had been set in motion. And the best way to do that was by being unpredictable. She had to do exactly the opposite of what the person trying to manipulate her wanted. It would drive Maria mad not to immediately go look for Justin, but she knew she had to play her cards right. She needed to be as calculated as her opponent.

  Even if it killed her.

  About sun up, as Rod was coordinating search efforts and Maria scoured over the riddle, her cell phone buzzed. The n
umber was blocked.

  What if the kidnapper had changed his or her mind and wanted to negotiate after all. Maria answered the call immediately. “Hello?”

  “Maria, it’s Dr. Roberts.”

  “Dr. Roberts?” Maria pushed back her urge to cry. “Why are you calling?”

  “I heard about the kidnapping. I get an alert whenever something comes through the FBI or CIA connected to one of my patients.”

  Maria pressed her lips together. I cannot cry. I must be strong for Beth.

  “Anyhow,” her FBI-mandated therapist continued, “I wanted to see how you were holding up. I understand you know the victim?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. I do know him. He’s the eight-year-old son of my best friend from high school.”

  “You’re not really okay, are you?” The doctor’s words pierced her in the chest.

  “N-no.”

  “Let me guess. People are close by. They can hear you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Say the word ‘pencil’ if your hallucinations have come back. Say ‘pen’ if they haven’t.”

  Maria stopped a moment. Had her PTSD hallucinations come back? She’d been so busy studying the riddle that she hadn’t really taken in her surroundings.

  Peeling her eyes from the letter the kidnapper had left her, Maria looked around Beth’s living room. Nothing strange about it except that it was void of children. At this hour, the three of them would have been running out the door, trying to get to school on time.

  But there were certainly no ghosts. No hallucinations. Everything that was happening was very real. Too real.

  Beth and her husband sat in a corner holding each other. Their local clergyman had come and was trying to give them comfort. Rod was in the kitchen, talking on his radio. The county Sheriff had arrived to help. He and his assistant had taken on the job of keeping people away from the house and especially the backyard.

  “Maria?” asked Dr. Roberts. “You still there?”

  “Sorry. Y-yes. I’m here.”

  “And your hallucinations?”

  “Pens, it’s definitely pens.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful. Your progress is coming along so well.”

  “Yeah, well I’ve been having dreams. Nightmares actually.” It was then Maria remembered the fuzzy male figure she’d seen in her room seconds after waking before learning of the awful news about Justin. Had that been a hallucination or just leftovers from her dream?

  “What are these dreams about, Maria?” asked Dr. Roberts.

  Maria glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to her. They weren’t. She still was careful to speak very softly. “Tehran. My team. You know.”

  “Listen, Maria, you’re under a lot of stress right now. Everyone has bad dreams. Especially someone who has been through something like you have. Don’t give the dreams a second thought. They don’t mean anything.”

  Maria hoped that was true. The last two nights the dreams had been so vivid. Horrific. And both nights Ryan had called out to her. At the very end he said something she couldn’t understand. She was partially glad she couldn’t make sense of the words. They certainly couldn’t be anything that could help her feel better.

  “And, Maria,” Dr. Roberts continued, “there’s no one I know who will work as hard as you to get Justin back. Kanab is lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Roberts.” Then, in a much quieter voice she added, “But I feel like it’s my fault Justin was taken in the first place. The ransom letter was addressed to me. And it’s not money the kidnapper wants. Whoever left it wrote a riddle. I’m supposed to solve it to find Justin.” She hit the coffee table in front of her with her palm. “It’s so frustrating.”

  “A riddle? That’s odd. Let me think on that a bit.”

  “What sort of criminal would do that?” asked Maria.

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to see if I can find some sort of precedent.”

  Maria was glad she wasn’t the only one feeling confused about the letter. “I wish the FBI would hurry and get here and start forensics.”

  “They will be there soon. Keep me posted, Maria. I care about you. I hope you know that.”

  His kindness made her shrink. She didn’t deserve kindness. She deserved to be locked up in a cell where her presence couldn’t hurt anyone else.

  “I will, Dr. Roberts. Thanks for calling.”

  Chapter Eight

  [Despite efforts] a water storage facility planned in Kanab has disrupted an ancient Native American burial site where now more than 50 bodies have been unearthed.

  “Dam project unearths ancient burial site in Kanab,” The San Diego Union-Tribune, Feb 13, 2011.

  The FBI arrived at Beth’s home at 9:17 a.m. They ushered everyone off the property and began their investigation. They took the letter addressed to Maria (but not before she had taken several pictures of it from every angle she could) and told her to meet them later that day at the police station to debrief.

  That was at one p.m. She had to do something for the next three hours or she would go insane. And it certainly wasn’t going to be writing speeding tickets.

  In the past, the Kanab librarian, Ms. Tuttle, had always come through for Maria when she needed information. With the situation being so desperate, Maria didn’t think it could hurt to have a genius librarian take a look at the strange riddle—though she’d have to be clandestine about it. Technically, Maria shouldn’t be sharing evidence like this.

  At that time in the morning, the Kanab library was technically still closed. However, Ms. Tuttle had unlocked the front door and was sitting inside at the circulation desk as if she knew Maria would come.

  “Oh my dear,” she said, skirting around the counter and hugging Maria. The librarian’s arms felt like a blanket of comfort. Yet, every time someone showed kindness to Maria it made her feel worse. It reinforced her gut feeling that everything was somehow her fault.

  No one, after all, was wrapping their arms around Justin, reassuring him everything was going to turn out fine.

  Ms. Tuttle embraced her again and Maria stiffened out of her growing guilt.

  “Sorry,” Ms. Tuttle said. “I’ll quit the hugs. You’re here for help. Not comfort. What can I do?”

  “You heard about Justin?” Maria could hardly say his name.

  “News travels fast in Kanab.” Ms. Tuttle’s eyes were like stars in the dark recesses of a nightmare. They brought the first sign of hope since Pete had woken Maria up in the night to tell her of Justin’s kidnapping.

  “What do you know?”

  “Someone took him from his room while the family was sleeping. I don’t know how much money the kidnapper is asking for, but I’m planning a fundraiser. I’ll sell every book in the library if I must to help Beth get the cash.”

  “The kidnapper didn’t ask for money.” Maria frowned.

  “Then what?” Ms. Tuttle looked expectant.

  “See for yourself.” Maria showed Ms. Tuttle a copy of the ransom note she’d printed out. “It’s a riddle. And a weird one.”

  “Let me grab my glasses.” For the next several minutes the librarian studied the paper, scribbled in the margins, made asterisks by certain words, and underlined others. At last she looked up from her desk, glassy-eyed. “Yes, well, as you say, this isn’t obvious. And the deeper question is ‘why?’ Why did they address the letter to you? Maybe it’s just a distraction?”

  “Maybe.” Maria looked at the words again. “But what if it isn’t and I do nothing to find Justin? I could never live with myself. The FBI are working on the riddle, of course, but I wanted you to take a look at it as well, without telling anyone, if you understand what I mean?”

  “Of course. I’ll keep working on it and I’ll give you a call later. Maria, we’re going to find him. This town will turn over every last piece of red sand if we have to. Justin is coming home.”

  This time it was Maria who reached over and embraced Ms. Tuttle. For once the woman was wrong
.

  Maria was, very much indeed, in need of comfort.

  While the FBI secured the scene of the crime, Maria and Pete continued to follow up on any leads that had come in during the night. There wasn’t much, but they were attacking everything as if it might pan out.

  With the FBI’s approval, Pete called Mark Lyon at the Kanab newspaper to run a full page ad with Justin’s picture in it. Pete also grilled Mark for news of anything or anyone unusual in town.

  As the two men talked, Maria stared at the riddle.

  None of it made any sense. Wasn’t she supposed to have the Sight? Why couldn’t it help her out with something useful? She tried calling Jim multiple times to see if he might be able to help, but so far no one knew where the man was.

  Maria stared at the words, then the letters, and finally at the numbers. She turned the paper with the riddle written on it upside down.

  Nothing.

  She mixed the letters up, trying to see if they made new words. She tried to read it backward. Sideways.

  Nothing.

  Getting down to business, she pulled out her deciphering code book from college. It hadn’t been cracked open for years. She hadn’t had much use for it as a black ops leader in the CIA. If she wanted a code cracked, she got the experts on it.

  Maria didn’t know how long she’d been lost in the thought when the station dispatcher quietly knocked on Maria’s office door and told her a call had come in.

  “Who is it?” Maria asked.

  “It’s about the reservoir, again,” the dispatcher said. “Someone threatening someone else.”

  “Seriously?” Maria rolled her eyes and checked out the time on her phone. She had at least two hours before the FBI debriefing that afternoon.

  But the reservoir? She had absolutely no desire to go back there. Why couldn’t grownups behave themselves?

  Then again, if she went to the reservoir she might find Jim there, and he might be helpful in solving the riddle.