Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection

by J. S. Donovan

  She stayed completely still, knowing that any tremor in the water would be reveal her hiding spot. She refused to think about what else could be in the swamp with her.

  She kept an eye out for any more movement.

  Insects chippered.

  A mosquito drew blood from her neck.

  She waited.

  In the distance, police sirens sounded.

  She thought she saw something move in the woods nearby, but it could’ve been her imagination.

  Red and blue lights flashed over the trees and the Escalade’s glossy paint.

  One police car pulled over while another continued on ahead to the orchard.

  Two officers stepped out.

  Arden put her hands up. “Hey!”

  The cops shined their flashlights in her eyes.

  Arden recoiled.

  “Drop the weapon! Drop the weapon!” they shouted furiously.

  “Garold Grey is out there! He’s armed and extremely dangerous!” Arden shouted back.

  “Drop the weapon! Now!” The police aimed their guns at her.

  Arden put her pistol down on a jagged tree trunk. She kept her arms high above her head. “Don’t you hear me? Garold’s still around!”

  “Where’s the girl?” one of the cops yelled.

  “In the car,” Arden replied. “She’s alive, but she needs immediate medical assistance.”

  Scanning her surroundings, she moved through the swamp and got out to dry land.

  One of the officers pointed at the flipped Mustang. “In there?”

  Chattering, Arden nodded. She crossed her arms tightly. The world swayed around her. It must be a side effect of the pain pills.

  One of the officers told her to have a seat.

  She did and said, “Bring backup. There are more captives in the orchard.”

  One cop responded. “Let us do our jobs, okay?”

  “I don’t think you understand--”

  The cop glared at her.

  Arden’s face turned to stone. She shut her eyes, trying to find solitude. None came.

  Not wanting to get their pants wet, the cops stared at the flipped Mustang.

  “I’ll get her,” Arden suggested.

  That prompted one of the officers to trudge through the swamp. He hated every step. Finally, he arrived at the Mustang. A hand reached out from the broken window and grabbed his shirt. The cop yelled and quickly stepped back.

  Joe withdrew his hand. His face was maddened with pain, confusion, and the raw instinct to survive. The cop commanded him to exit the vehicle. He did so. When he spotted Arden in the distance, he calmed down.

  Joe lowered the seat and helped the officer retrieve the girl.

  Arden kept watching for Garold. The sound of woodland creatures filled the vacant silence. He was either hiding or long gone.

  The cop refused to hold the little girl, so Joe carried her limp body. He walked out of the water. The little girl rested in his arms. Her head was laid back, her eyes were closed, and her mouth was slightly open.

  The cop looked down at Arden. “Is it just the three of you?”

  Arden stared at the girl, lost in cynical thought.

  The cop repeated himself.

  Arden replied, “Yeah…”

  The ambulance and another cop car roared through the back road and arrived. The EMTs loaded up the girl.

  Arden and Joe were going to follow behind when the original cops stopped them. “You two will come with us.”

  “We need help.” Joe replied, half-dazed.

  “And you’ll get it but right now, you’ll do as we say,” the cop said without leaving room for negotiation.

  Not in the mood to fight, Joe and Arden got a blanket around their shoulders and sat in the back seat of the police cruiser.

  The officer closed the door.

  A sudden fear pulled at her heart.

  She realized that she never told the officers about the girl, yet that was the first thing they asked about. She put that worry to rest, remembering what she told the operator when she called. Arden rested her head back. Her red hair dripped swamp water. The scabs on her body had split open. Her mind kept racing.

  Why didn’t they bring backup? Why only send one car to the orchard? Why didn’t they ask about Garold? Where were they taking her? This wasn’t right. She’d been in a car accident. She needed to be look at by the EMTs, but they barely gave her a glance.

  Arden tried her door handle.

  Locked.

  Panic set in. The police officers entered the vehicle and shut their doors.

  Arden kept her mouth shut. She tried her best to look calm while panicking inside. shouting. The ambulance drove away first before her squad car started going forward.

  The police didn’t do anything about the flipped car or totaled Escalade. Weren’t there people they had for that? Perhaps it was her medication that was throwing her off. She’d been in a car crash too. Concussion maybe?

  The police cruiser drove down the windy roads.

  Ominous woods and the decrepit swamp lined her trek.

  Arden chewed the inside of her cheek as she awaited her fate.

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!

  Writing has always been a passion of mine and it’s incredibly gratifying and rewarding whenever you give me an opportunity to let you escape from your everyday surroundings and entertain the world that is your imagination.

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  Again, thank you so much for letting me into your world. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it!

  The Vanishing of The Georgia Rose: Book 2

  1

  Burrow

  Bruised, weary, and drenched in swamp water, private investigators Arden Briar and Joe Carmon sat in the back of the Jamesville police cruiser.

  Their bloodshot eyes aimed forward. Towels rested over their shoulders. Water sloshed inside of Arden’s shoe as she anxiously tapped her right leg. Covered in cuts, splits, and bruises, the soles of her feet screamed in pain. Her heart pounded irregularly and her short red hair dripped musky water down her freckled cheeks.

  Joe didn’t look much better.

  Six foot four and built like an ox, the retired Marine had a buzz cut, a lumberjack beard, and naturally slanted eyebrows that made him look furious. He wore a heavy-lidded, dazed expression on his haunted face. He grimaced every time he moved his neck. Blood leaked from his busted nose and down his facial hair.

  Untamed wilderness encroached on the edges of the dark country road. They were near the small town of Jamesville, Georgia. It was an inconsequential blip on the map and consisted of a few hundred residences scattered throughout miles of woods, fields, and swamps.

  The cruiser kept a steady pace as it distanced itself from Joe’s flipped Ford Mustang and the shootout that had occurred thirty minutes ago.

  It went without saying that the investigators had gone through hell.

  A few days ago, they embarked on a case to find and recover television superstar Scarlet Gales. She was an eleven-year-old Southern belle who had vanished during a private party. Arden and Joe, two unorthodox P.I.s hellbent on stopping pedophiles and rescuing captives, followed the girl’s trail to Jamesville. The rural town was an easy place to hide a body... or host a Luciferian party for a small sect of the Hollywood elite based out of Atlanta.

  Sneaking their way into a private orchard, Arden and Joe found Scarlet in the midst of the debauchery. They extracted Scarlet but didn’t get far before Scarlet’s pr
oducer/abductor Garold Grey rammed their car into a shallow swamp.

  Arden kept Garold away long enough for the police to arrive.

  An ambulance took Scarlet away. A pair of local police officers loaded Arden and Joe into the back of their cruiser. This would’ve been normal if both the investigators weren’t edging towards death’s door. Or if Garold wasn’t still running free in the surrounding woods.

  Dripping wet, Arden trembled and held fast to the ends of the warm towel. Bulletproof plastic and metal fencing divided the front and back seats. Arden could only see the edges of the officers’ shoulders. The dispatch lady on the police radio chattered quietly.

  Arden spoke up, “Hey.”

  The cop in the passenger seat glanced at the rearview mirror. He was short but bulky. His face was relatively unassuming. His apathetic eyes were the color of dirty ice. His expression displayed annoyance.

  Arden continued speaking, “Where are they taking Scarlet?”

  The cop had a deep Southern drawl. “Memorial Hospital.”

  “You know there are more victims back at the orchard,” Arden said with unintentional rudeness. The fatigue that drained her body brought out her bad side.

  The cop glared at her for a moment. “We called for backup.”

  “You’re going to need more than one car,” Arden replied.

  The cop turned to the road ahead, willfully ignoring her.

  Something didn’t feel right in Arden’s spirit. It was like she was next to a tea kettle about to scream.

  A pensive look overtook Joe’s face. He felt it, too.

  Around them, trees blurred in the darkness. Millions of stars dotted the sky.

  The driver turned off the main road and started down a skinny dirt path.

  Joe sat up in alarm. “Where are we going?”

  “Shortcut,” the curt cop sitting shotgun replied.

  Arden’s shoulder muscles tightened. She drew the towel around her, making herself small. The car rumbled on the dirt road.

  The dispatcher on the police radio was surprisingly calm. There was no report about Scarlet being found or a raid on the orchard where the party was taking place.

  The cop in the passenger seat noticed Arden was listening and turned down the radio knob.

  Like death’s shadow, silence filled the police cruiser.

  A tear of swamp water rolled down Arden’s cheek and dangled at the corner of her sharp jaw.

  Joe leaned over to tell her something.

  In the rearview, the cops locked eyes on him. Arden hadn’t noticed it before, but the officers had the same nose bridge, eye color, and scrunched mouth shape. They must be brothers.

  Knowing that he wasn’t going to say anything with the threat of being heard, Joe withdrew himself from Arden.

  The car slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.

  Joe’s face turned red in fury. “Why are we stopping?”

  The cops stepped out simultaneously.

  They drew out their pistols as they walked to the back doors.

  “God help us,” Joe mumbled.

  Arden and Joe took off their seatbelts and scrambled to get in a better position where they could defend themselves.

  The officers yanked open the doors. They quickly backed up two paces and aimed at Joe and Arden. The car’s interior lights illuminated the cops’ stony faces.

  “Out of the car,” the one on Joe’s side said.

  Joe smirked in rage. “You’re really going to shoot us in your own backseat?”

  The cop trained his gun on Joe’s head. “I can get a mechanic and replacement in twenty. We’re all family here.”

  Arden raised her arms up slightly and locked eyes with the driver. She tried to draw up sympathy with a desperate look. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Get out,” the driver commanded.

  Arden slowly exited the car. The officer took another few steps back. His gun stayed aimed on Arden’s chest. The terror of looking down a loaded gun sent pins and needles across her body.

  “Whatever they are paying you, it’s not worth it,” Arden said carefully.

  Joe barked, “You know what these people do? They take children, for god’s sake!”

  “Start walking,” the cop commanded Joe.

  Arden caught a glimpse of their name tags: Officer J. Parker and Officer R. Parker.

  J was taller, leaner, and had deep-set eyes. He was the driver.

  R had a mean mug and thicker muscles. Both of them wore their spiffy police uniforms.

  Leaving no room for protest, they marched Arden and Joe into the woods.

  Insects chirped. Mosquitoes nipped at Arden’s skin. A cold gust slapped against her face. She quietly mumbled prayers as she dragged her feet down the old game trail. Arden’s terror turned to guilt and anger. She should’ve suspected the police were involved in all this mess. Only God knew how long the rituals had been occurring in Jamesville.

  The officers kept their flashlights aimed at Arden’s and Joe’s feet.

  “Run and we’ll shoot you,” R warned.

  Every step away from the cop car was another step away from hope.

  The woods tempted Arden, but if she ran now, where would she go? Her phone was fried. Her car was gone. She didn’t know anyone in these parts. Even if she got away from the cops, it would all be over for her.

  Her mind raced to Scarlet’s fate. Was the ambulance a sham, too?

  They stepped into a small clearing. Loose dirt covered the ground.

  “On your knees,” R commanded.

  Arden and Joe stopped parallel to each other. Joe gave her a guilty look.

  Arden’s expression implied a sympathetic “I know.”

  Joe’s seventeen-year-old daughter and two-year-old grandson waited for him to come home tonight.

  The investigators’ knees hit the cold dirt.

  At the cop’s command, they locked their fingers behind their heads.

  Heat rushed to Arden’s face. She knew she’d start crying soon. She fought the tears, reminding herself that she died the moment she was baptized. That didn’t stop the waterworks. Tears trickled down her cherry red face. Saliva gathered in her mouth. She felt like she would vomit.

  The soft scruffy sound of digging filled the back of her ear.

  Joe looked over his shoulder.

  R quickly smacked the back of Joe’s head with his pistol.

  “Oof,” Joe said as he nearly fell face first in the dirt.

  Fighting tears of his own, he straightened up. It wasn’t out of obedience. It was out of dignity. He refused to die a coward.

  Arden heard the creak of an opening chest.

  Two spades were tossed in front of Arden and Joe.

  Weapons, Arden immediately thought.

  She hungrily reached for the handle.

  “Don’t!” one of the officers said.

  Arden stopped her outstretched hand.

  The officer continued. “Grab it slowly and start digging, both of you.”

  Arden and Joe each grabbed a spade. Arden felt some of her power come back to her. If she could only see the cops behind her, she could--

  “Dig!” the officer’s shout interrupted her thoughts.

  Staying on their knees, Joe and Arden started shoveling dirt. Every time the point of the spade pierced the ground, Arden imagined the men behind her. Sweat replaced the water that had once drenched her.

  The hole got deeper and deeper.

  Her shoulders cried out in pain. Her palms blistered.

  Joe worked in quiet silence. The deeper he dug the more rage built in his face until a vein bulged in his creased forehead.

  The cops kept their flashlights shining upon them.

  Arden’s knees were killing her. She stood up in the two-foot hole.

  “Down!” the officer said.

  “It’ll help me dig faster,” Arden replied.

  The officers didn’t respond.

  Arden stayed standing, taking a breathe
r. She scanned her surroundings, hoping to see some way out. There was none.

  She bent over and kept digging.

  The officers laughed as they looked at her rear.

  Arden wanted to jam the shovel in their laughing faces. Instead, she kept quiet. She prayed, unsure if she should say “forgive them for they know not what they do,” or to ask for the fire of God to fall upon them. Despite every part of her being screaming the opposite, Arden prayed the former. She wondered what a testimony it would be if the two men that murdered her became missionaries and proclaimers of the gospel. It may seem like a fallacy, but that’s what faith looked like sometimes. Also, it made her dying worth it.

  Joe and Arden were four feet in now.

  Their muscles cramped. The sky was starting to turn from black to dark indigo. Maybe she’d get to see the sun shine one last time. That would be a treat.

  Arden used the top of her forearm to wipe the sweat from her brow. It left a dirty smear. She was covered up to her biceps in dirt. It stained her torso and legs too. She drove the spade into the ground again.

  “Stop,” the officer said.

  Arden and Joe both paused and took a breath.

  Joe’s haunted eyes were filled with bloodthirsty rage..

  Holding her spade to her side, Arden gave him a brief, sad smile. Fear still clawed at her heart, but she didn’t want to die a teary mess. She accepted the inevitable. The moment she did was the moment she realized just how tired she was. For the past six years, she’d been snaking her way through the slimiest places, dealing with the vilest people and fighting a fight that she knew could never be won. Maybe it was time to rest. She could use a good sleep.

  “Toss back the spades,” one of the officers commanded.

  Arden closed her eyes and drew in the breeze. She imagined the sunshine that would fall upon her shortly.

  “Spades!” the officer commanded.

  Arden’s fantasy ended.

  The incoming sunlight cast the officer’s shadows over them. For the first time, they had an idea where the cops were standing.

  She traded looks with Joe.

  The gears turned in his head as they looked at the shadows.

  “Do it now!” the officer commanded.