Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection

by J. S. Donovan

  “I’ve never seen that,” Terrance said.

  “Were you in charge of building the dollhouse?” Joe grilled.

  Terrance hesitated. “Some of it. It's hard to tell. Many of these props were built in pre-production during the first season. Any one of our freelance workers could have added it, or anyone could have put it in there.”

  Arden crossed her arms. “Where were you the night of Scarlet’s disappearance?”

  “What night was that?”

  “Three days ago,” Joe said.

  Terrance looked Joe in the eye. “I was at home with my cat.”

  “Do you have anyone to back that up?” Joe pressed.

  Terrance replied, “No. Not really. Are you accusing me of taking that girl? You’re not the police. You can’t do that. I’ll sue if I have to.”

  Arden cracked a smile. “I think you misunderstood us. We’re not after a witch hunt, we’re just trying to get to the facts. Scarlet is in a very scary place right now, and we want to cover our bases. Is that understandable?”

  Terrance’s face was red. “As long as your brutish partner isn’t accusing me of crimes I didn’t commit, absolutely.”

  “If you can, tell us about this figure in the dollhouse,” Arden replied. “It may not seem like it, but we’re actually on your side.”

  Terrance mumbled sarcastically under his breath. “I believe that.”

  Arden tried her best to keep the bridge from burning. “Is this image, which appears to be sinister and foreboding in nature, part of the original set design as the script listed?”

  “Not that I know of,” Terrance said.

  Joe opened the script and pointed to the passage. “Who is He?”

  “Huh,” Terrance said as he looked at it. “I’ve never noticed that before.”

  Arden nodded. The man, though harboring an attitude, appeared to be telling the truth. She asked if anything else like this had been seen around the set.

  Terrance denied the claim and added. “And if it is on anything else, it wasn’t done by me.”

  “What about your peers? Has any one of them expressed interest in the occult or similar dark arts?” Arden asked. It seemed like it had come out of the left field, but Arden had a good basis for asking it. The occult, though usually working in the shadows for the past few decades, was much more accepted nowadays. She actually saw a few cars driving with an inverted cross as their bumper sticker. In a city like Atlanta, that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Nevertheless, Arden opposed the occult for the obvious reasons. It wasn’t that she hated them, after all, she was called to love those who hated her, but she couldn’t find any reason to support the worship of her enemy. Back to the question, Arden asked again. “Or any other strange religious sects?”

  Terrance chuckled.

  “This isn’t a joking matter,” Joe said.

  Terrance replied. “I’m not mocking you. It’s just the timing of all this.”

  Arden and Joe exchanged looks. This could be good.

  Terrance continued. “You ever seen the movie Eyes Wide Shut?”

  “Kubrick?” Joe replied.

  The only movie Arden was familiar with was The Shining, and she hadn’t watched that in years.

  “Well, there are these rumors that certain parties like that still happen,” Terrance said. “A good friend of mine, he doesn’t work in this studio, has heard rumors about it.”

  “Tell me about these parties,” Arden asked.

  “I can’t vouch for them, but from what I heard, they aren’t for the faint of heart,” Terrance said. “It’s like a costume party, mixing with orgies and all sorts of deviant behavior. I don’t know what that has to do with what you found in the dollhouse, but that’s the only thing I can relate to the occult or some form of it.”

  “Does these parties happen often?” Arden asked.

  Terrance shrugged. “There’s a chance they don’t happen at all.”

  Joe glanced around the room. “You stuck to the script with everything that was designed. Why?”

  “That’s what I was told to do,” Terrance replied. “Most projects I work on come with more creative freedom. This was an exception. We were asked to follow the script to a tee. In some ways, it saved us a lot of trouble. In other ways, it wasn’t as fun. Still, I can’t disregard the success of the design.”

  “Did Scarlet seem happy here?” Arden asked.

  Terrance shrugged. “I never really spent too much time looking after her. I don’t believe I ever spoke to her once. When she was on set, I was usually off somewhere. We had conflicting schedules.”

  “Did anyone you worked with ever say anything about Scarlet that might have sounded obsessive or strange?” Arden asked.

  Terrance shook his head. “Nope, and I’m not about to answer more of these questions without a lawyer present.”

  Arden chewed the inside of her lip. She needed to solid the evidence, not more he said/she said. Joe suggested that Terrance stay with them as they walked through the set again. The man agreed. His offense had started to dwindle when Arden stopped directing questions at him. Instead, they walked through the set and compared everything that aligned with the script. After the nearly two-hour search, they found no other strange symbols like what was in the dollhouse.

  After talking to a few more staff members and learning nothing of importance, Arden and Joe decided to head back to the office.

  Joe drove. Arden kept the script open on her lap. She had a pensive look on her face.

  Joe glanced over to her. “What?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right…” Arden said.

  “Trust facts over feelings,” Joe replied.

  “I know,” Arden agreed. “But when I look at this picture, it just… it makes me feel sick.”

  “You think that the abductor drew that in?” Joe asked.

  Arden shrugged. “It's impossible to know at this point…”

  Joe ended her sentence. “But you want to go deeper.”

  Arden thought on it. Her most valuable resource when dealing with a missing persons case was time. If she invested too much of it into following the wrong lead, it could spell death for the individual she was pursuing. She needed to be careful. Three days since the girl had been reported missing put her in a critical position. She had to choose carefully how she wished to proceed. Arden flipped through the script.

  “So, are we diving in?” Joe asked.

  “You got any brilliant ideas?” Arden asked.

  “We still have the list of potential suspects we can comb again,” Joe mentioned.

  “Nah,” Arden said. “That’s the police's job. The killer left behind a script for one of two reasons. A, to throw us off, or B, he wants to see something. If the dollhouse was part of the breadcrumbs, what is the purpose?”

  “Perhaps he’s challenging us to find him,” Joe said.

  Arden watched the city blur around them. “What about Scarlet’s house?”

  “The dollhouse?”

  “No, the actual model,” Arden said. “Is that a replica to a real building?”

  Joe shook his head. “From what I know, they modeled it based off of the common Antebellum architecture.”

  Arden researched and found Joe’s answers to align with the various entertainment news articles regarding the show. They grabbed some lunch and returned to the office. Arden scanned every page of the script so Joe and her could look at their own separate copy as they ate cheap Chinese food. They researched the house to see if they could match a historical replica in real life but didn’t have much luck.

  It wasn’t until later that Joe picked up something from one of the opening paragraphs. The author described the plantation home in great detail as well as including, “somewhere around the county of the twisted oak and rural Augustus.”

  Joe underlined the words twisted oak. “Check it.”

  “What is the county of the twisted oak?” Arden asked.

  “Never once was something like that mentioned
in the dialogue or story,” Joe said. “For an author so keen on minute details, it doesn’t seem random.”

  Arden looked up twisted oak in the web browser, but nothing came up. She expanded her search to various counties surrounding Atlanta. One of them was Bacham County. It consisted of acres of farmland and the small historical town of Jamesville. Upon looking up Jamesville, Arden found that their town symbol was an oak tree with a twisted trunk. By the looks of it, the town was not established until 1909, years after the Civil War ended. Why was this mentioned in the script?

  “It’s a two-hour drive,” Arden said. “We leave now, we can get there before sunset.”

  Joe took a deep breath. “Are you sure this is the best way to do this?”

  Arden had a feeling in her guy. “I don’t know, Joe. I just feel like we need to go there,” She didn’t know if the feeling was just her own desires or if there was a larger force at work.

  They hit the road ASAP, unsure what they’d find at the small country town.

  They flipped a coin, and Arden was the nominated driver. Her clunking ‘93 Lincoln chugged out of Atlanta and headed southeast.

  Joe’s phone rang. It was Jessica.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Jessica replied on the other end of the line. “Still breathing.”

  “Is there something on your mind?” Joe asked.

  “Ethan’s sick again.”

  Joe shut his eyes for a moment. “What is it?”

  “Stomach bug.”

  “He’s a tough kid. He’ll pull through.”

  “I hope so… What time are you coming home?”

  “I can’t say. Arden and I have to head out of town. By the looks of it, it could take all night.”

  “Oh.” Jessica sounded disappointed. “Are you sure you can’t make it home earlier? It’s just I have a lot of homework and to look after Ethan, too… It’s just a lot stress.”

  Joe replied, “You’ll get through it.”

  “I guess.” Jessica went silent for moment. “Where are you now?”

  Joe rubbed his hand up his scalp. “Working. I’ll call you when I come home.”

  “I hope it’s not dangerous. Last night you come home limping. It really upset Ethan.”

  “I have to protect people like you and Ethan,” Joe replied.

  “Then be here,” Jessica said. “Please, Dad. We love you. We need you.”

  Joe pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.

  “Dad?” Jessica asked after not hearing him speak.

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can. Okay?” Joe replied. “I love you.”

  “You, too.”

  They said their goodbyes and hung up.

  Arden gave Joe a reassuring touch on his shoulder.

  He grunted and pulled away. “I wish she could understand what I’m doing for her.”

  “I understand,” Arden said agreeably.

  “You’re not the one with a teenage daughter and grandson,” Joe replied. “Heck, Arden, finding missing people, stopping bad guys, that makes sense to me. Trying to raise two kids alone while making a living… sheesh.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Arden asked.

  Joe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Can I offer you a suggestion?” Arden asked

  “Sure,” Joe said. “It better not be some ‘God is in control’ thing. I’m not looking to become a convert.”

  “Spend time with your daughter,” Arden said. “She’s your priority.”

  “And leave you to do this alone? Never. I can’t be guilty of your blood,” Joe said half-jokingly.

  “I’m serious, Joe,’ Arden replied. “I can work alone. I’ve done it for years. Your family matters. It's special, and despite your family not being in the most ideal situation, you’re blessed to have a family.”

  Joe took a deep breath. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face with his hands. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

  Arden gave him a little smile. They drove on, arriving in Jamesville in the late afternoon. The town was small and fit on one street. The gas station and general store was from the 1950s. It was like they’d driven back in time. A few of the local old men sat on rocking chairs outside a shop and watched them pull up.

  Arden asked them about any plantation homes out this way. The men were dead silent. Arden could tell that they didn’t like visitors. After asking around at various shops and gas station, one clerk was kind enough to confirm the existence of an old plantation similar to the one in the show, but said that it wasn’t her place to reveal its location. She mentioned how people had tried to vandalize it, so the locals didn’t like to tell outsiders. After Arden better explained the direness of the situation, the lady pointed her in the right direction.

  As the sun started to set over the small Southern town, Arden drove Joe down a single-lane country road that was so forgotten, it didn’t even have a posted speed limit. Following the lady’s directions, they turned down a dirt road and went deeper into the Georgia wilderness. The terrain was largely flat with the occasionally hilly sections. Tall trees lined their trek. Being that it was springtime, they were full of leaves. Dark clouds inched across the sky.

  Arden tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She had begun to doubt the woman’s directions after not seeing any sign of the mansion. It appeared she was just getting farther and farther away from civilization. The road took many blind twists and turns, as if it was a writhing snake.

  Arden took a final right and reached an opening into acres of neglected farmland. Bushes, thorns, and tall grass planted on the landscape surrounding the ancient mansion. It looked exactly like the dollhouse. The dirt road had deep tire treads that ended closer to the front of the house. In between the tire tracks was tall green grass. There were gardens and statues that had fallen into disrepair. Multiple rocks formed circles for gardens, but the gardens were overgrown with weeds.

  The house was a pre-Civil War marvel. It was monumental in size and had a sort of aristocratic arrogance to it, like the creator had made it big for the sake of making it big. It stood two stories tall and had a rectangular design. Six pillars held up the second-story covered balcony. Back in its prime, it would’ve stolen her breath. Now, it was a dark shell. Vines choked part of the building’s chipped white paint. The truncated roof was missing tiles. Spray-painted plywood and wood planks covered the ominous windows. A naked man stood on the balcony watching them.

  Not taking his eyes off him, Joe pulled out the binoculars and zoomed in. “Mannequin.”

  Arden shuddered. It was in the exact placement of the doll on the doll house.

  She grabbed her gun from the glove box and clipped it to her belt. Joe did the same. Exiting the car at the same time, they looked up at the ancient place. A soft breeze brushed against Arden’s cheek and rushed through her red hair. Her green eyes scanned the property as her mouth formed a line across her face. She felt something “off” about the place. It was almost as if a little voice was telling her to get out.

  Arden proceeded up the stone steps leading toward the front of the building. The front doors were large and lavish. Arden pulled out her flashlight and walked to the door. Joe walked on ahead and gave it a try. With a loud creak, the jaws of the house opened.

  The beam from Joe’s flashlight sliced through the grandiose entrance hall. There was a set of stairs arching upward into an upstairs balcony. Large, tilted picture frames hung on the wall, but the oil paintings within had been cut out by looters. There were doors on either side of the room. Only small breaches of natural sunlight escaped through the boarded windows. Arden and Joe would have to rely on flashlights to guide them.

  They moved through the large room, listening to the floor creak beneath their steps.

  Joe looked up at the mural on the ceiling. It displayed a decrepit image of clouds swirling around the sun. “Can you believe this place?”

  “Hardly,” Arden said.


  Graffiti vandalized some of the walls. Arden, keeping her purse strapped across her chest, pulled out her Canon camera and snapped a few photos. Each flash was like a lightning bolt had illuminated the ominous room.

  “Scarlet’s room?” Joe suggested.

  Arden nodded.

  She followed Joe up the rickety stairs. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls. They reached the second story and started down the hall lined with doors. Remembering the dollhouse, they went to the one at the farthest end and turned the rusty brass knob. It didn’t move. Joe put his shoulder into it a few times until it burst open.

  Arden kept watch behind him. The place left her feeling uneasy. She followed him into the room. Their flashlights danced across the walls and the rotted bed covered. Roaches scurried across the floor. Painted on the wall above the bed was a shadow. It was eleven feet tall and had large arms and sharp claws. Its eyes were painted red and it had a mouth full of jagged teeth. Its design was surprisingly simplistic, and it seemed to grow out of the backboard of the bed to where it had a “V” like body. Nevertheless, something about its almost childish construction made it seem much more sinister.

  Joe shined his light at the demonic imagery. It was painted in matte black.

  Arden’s teeth chattered. “Something is very wrong here.”

  The moment Arden stopped talking, a distant door slammed shut.

  Arden and Joe both twisted back to the entrance to the bedroom.

  Joe put out his hand towards Arden. “Wait here.”

  He quietly walked out of the room.

  Arden watched him go. The wind rattled the boards on the bedroom window. She couldn’t stand being in this room and started to pray beneath her breath.

  Joe returned. His eyes were wide and his expression intense. “The front door just closed.”

  “Was it the wind?” Arden asked.

  “I don’t know, but we should find out what we're after and go,” Joe said.

  “We’re after Scarlet,” Arden said. “She might be in any one of these rooms.”

  Every step, every opened door had Arden’s pulse pounding. She tried her best to keep a level head and not let the place affect her, but it wasn’t working. Each room was cluttered with junk. Not having any luck on the second floor, they descended back downstairs. They moved into the kitchen, seeing rusty silverware cutlery strewn across the countertops and sink. Rust spots painted the stainless steel. Bugs scurried across the floor. Arden and Joe kept moving through until they reached a chained door. It had an “X” formed by two crossing metal chains and a master lock.