Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection

by J. S. Donovan

  She reached the door and felt her chest tighten. What remained of her daughter after spending weeks with the devil? Would she remember my face? Trisha understood the foolishness of the thought, but it was a mother’s gravest fear outside of the loss of a child, something that she knew too well. She believed her handsome husband would step up and open the door, but his fingers hovered above the knob. The blood left his well-structured face, and the fluorescent lights above grabbed at the sweat on his perfectly shaved scalp. Trisha touched the top of his hand and, together, they grabbed the knob. It felt good to touch his strong hand, to embrace the moment together after the hurricane that had ravaged their relationship for the last few weeks.

  The door opened with a soft click. The Rines couple held their breaths and braved the threshold.

  The little child lay on a soft bed that was tucked against the wall in the small hospital room. Wide-eyed and swiftly hiding her hands under the covers, Keisha sat up and looked at her parents with bewilderment. For a moment, no party moved. Keisha’s lip quivered.

  A tide of emotions smashed into Trisha. She rushed to her daughter, smothering her with a mother’s love. She was so skinny it made Trisha’s heart hurt.

  “I was so scared,” Trisha said into her daughter’s ear. “I thought… never mind.”

  Keisha didn’t return her mother’s hug. She kept her hands hidden and cast her eyes to the shiny tile floor. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  Trisha pulled away, keeping her hands on her daughter’s upper arms. “Sorry? No no no. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You did nothing wrong.”

  Avery mustered the courage to join the girls at the bed. “This isn’t your fault, Kei. Not one bit of it.”

  His daughter’s sullen expression was proof enough that she wasn’t convinced.

  “May I see them?” Trisha asked.

  Keisha’s teeth chattered. She avoided eye contact and revealed her hands from under the covers. They were tiny things with fresh bandages and gauze that covered her open area on the backside of her middle finger on one hand and the gap where her pinky once was on the other. Keisha sniffled, saying nothing to her parents.

  Trisha gently took her daughter’s incomplete hands into her own as if they were priceless china. She had no words, and Avery could barely bring himself to look.

  Keisha mumbled. “If you don’t love me anymore, I-I understand. He said you wouldn’t.”

  Avery balled a fist and shouted, “you should never believe a word that man said, you understand me? Never.”

  Keisha nodded obediently and sniffled. Avery bit his lip, upset at his outburst.

  Trisha pulled away from her daughter’s hand and used her index finger to turn up the little girl’s chin so they could see eye to eye. “Look at me, baby.”

  Reluctantly, the eleven-year-old obeyed her parent with a heavy frown on her face and dark circles under her almond eyes. “You think I care if you can still play piano?”

  “It’s how you make a living, isn’t it?” Keisha replied.

  “Your father and I will find another way. You are what we care about.” She put her hand on her daughter’s small face. “Whether you play the piano or not, we love you and nothing will ever change that.”

  Keisha fell into her mother’s arms. “I missed you so much.”

  Avery scooted into the hug, and the Rines were reunited.

  Anna thought she might as well move her office into the hospital after all the time she’d spent in there. The bed was second to her own, and, strangely, reminded her of her mattress in her father’s home. With all that had happened, calling the insurance company, scouting the scorched ruins, picking up her truck from the mechanic, and buying a new smartphone seemed trivial, but now the responsibilities and troubles of life were back to sock her in the jaw. Rest, Anna. She told herself, but if anything Cain said was right, it was that the world doesn’t stop spinning when bad things happen. She reached to the side table in search of a notepad and pen to jot down a list of errands when she noticed the envelope. It had a rosy pink hue with her name written in cursive on the back. How long was I out? Dragging her finger across the edge, she opened a tear at the top and removed the note.

  Dear Ms. Dedrick,

  We apologize for not being there when you awoke. My husband and I cannot express our gratitude for all that you’ve done for our daughter and this family. We’ve moved on now. I wish you swift recovery and godspeed with whatever may come next. Sincerely, Trisha, Avery, and Keisha Rines.

  A slip dropped out from the envelope and drifted to the floor, landing facedown. Rolling to her side, Anna reached out for the check. Her face scrunched at the movement, feeling a jolt of pain in her torso. She grabbed the item and fell back on the bed, taking deep breaths. She checked the number on the paycheck. She remembered the other envelope in her dad’s truck that she hadn’t opened. That check alone will cover the hospital bills, and now I have two.

  A dreadful pit grew in her stomach after she thought about someone. She put the check and note back in the pink envelope and pressed the buzzer on the side of her bed. A few moments later, a nurse arrived with an inquisitive expression.

  “I’d like to see my father.”

  The nurse returned with a wheelchair and assisted Anna onto it. Wincing, Anna clenched the stitches on her gut and allowed the nurse to wheel her through the hall. A few passing hospital employees nodded curtly at her as she approached her father’s unit. Her nerves racked and her pulse quickened. She promised the doctor a reply to her father’s situation upon her return, and the time of reckoning had come.

  The nurse stopped in front of the door and opened it for her. She heard the news anchor’s voice from the TV mounted in the corner of the room.

  “During a violent confrontation with FBI and local law enforcement specialists, Wesley Jenkins--known as Cain, the Butcher of Van Buren--was killed, putting an end to his reign of terror in the historic Arkansas river town and the entire country. Here to discuss this monumental victory is Sheriff Garrett Greenbell, who helmed this case from the very beginning.”

  The white-haired sheriff cleared his throat. “To say I did this on my own would be a lie. It was a community effort and without the help of a special consultant, Cain would’ve escaped justice and the child starlet Keisha Rines would not be alive today. If that special person is listening, thank you for pushing us detectives to be better ourselves in ways we never thought imaginable.”

  Anna knew that was closest thing she’d get to a compliment from Greenbell, and it felt good. She refocused on the task at hand as she wheeled herself into the room. The breathing

  machine had vanished, and the tube down her father’s throat had been removed in its entirety. His broken leg was still suspended and bandages around his torso could be seen at the neck of his hospital garb. Richard’s bruises had faded into a sickly green color. He looked to have shaved ten pounds, but not the ashen whiskers on his square jaw and droopy cheeks.

  “Hey, Pops.” Anna said, parking the wheelchair at the foot of the bed. “You’re lookin’ good. Not like one of those sexy South Beach girls you compare me to, but still easy on the eyes.”

  The heartbeat monitor blipped nearby. The same green ripple slugged across the screen, unchanging.

  “I got him,” Anna smiled with subtle pride. “Saved the girl, too. You’d be proud of me. I want to tell you all about it, but the doctors aren’t sure if you’re going to wake up even with the strides you're making.”

  Her father’s chest collapsed with every steady, raspy breath.

  “I’m sorry I left all those years ago. I don’t think I understood the grief you felt for Mom after she passed, but seeing you here…” Anna let her voice trail off. “I miss you, Dad.”

  The blips and blops of the machines were Richard’s replies. Anna sighed and swiveled the wheelchair around. With arms rotating the wheels, she trekked toward the door.

  “Anna,” a dry, croaky voice called out.

  The wheelchair h
alted. Anna felt herself shaking as she twirled around. With a crooked grin and half-closed eyes, Richard looked at her like a kid on Christmas morning. She rolled back to her awakened father.

  “What happened? You look hurt,” Richard asked, his excitement fleeting at the sight of Anna’s hospital get-up, bandaged head, and wheelchair.

  “I’m fine, Dad.” Anna took her father’s large hand and fought back a tear. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  Anna spent the next few days lying on the hospital bed, browsing through dozens of houses. With the permanent stain of Cain smudging the town’s history, a slew of new listings bombarded the real estate market and prompted Anna to stroke her chin as she thought of her father’s next residence. Riverside property was ideal, but Anna was unsure how many years of fishing Richard had in him. Less than he’d ever admit. Circling a number of listings in red pen, she charted out the order in which she’d conquer the addresses once her stomach and head had recovered. The grueling process of healing bored her out of her mind. She placed the real estate book next to a pile of assisted living facilities—last resorts for her father--and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  Knuckles rapped on the door. Anna scooted herself up to where her back rested on the bed’s backboard. The knob jiggled, and the door opened to Agent Rennard and the hospital hallway. He wore his Celtic rune necklace, a white v-neck and jeans, but no FBI jacket. Clear tape held white gauze to his nose, and purple bruising painted the underside of his eyes.

  “Glad to see you’re up,” he said, letting the door shut behind him.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t left town, Rennard. Van Buren that exciting?” Anna asked with a smile, happy he’d come back after the lumber house showdown.

  “Er, not particularly,” Rennard admitted. “This girl left all her stuff in my condo and I’m trying to figure out how to get rid of it.”

  “That,” Anna replied. “I didn’t forget. I have the keys to my office if you wouldn’t mind dropping it off.”

  She opened the side drawer and tossed him the keys. He caught them with a hand and pocketed them.

  “Where was that when Cain threw his baton at you?” Anna teased.

  “I know I’m not going to live that one down,” Rennard replied and approached Anna, hands in his pockets. “I talked to the director about you.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Anna was unsure where this conversation was going.

  “Well, he’s quite impressed with your work and thinks he may have a salary position open for you if you’re interested.”

  “I don’t know, Rennard. This last job gave me a helluva beating. I’m not sure if I’m ready to return that life.” But she wondered if she’d ever left.

  Rennard nodded a few times to himself and looked her in the eyes. “There’s no pressure, but you're good at this, Anna, and I don’t want to see your talents wasted on small town affairs.”

  Writing down a number on the back of one of his business cards, he laid it down on the side table. “This is the director’s number in case you change your mind.”

  Anna stared at it for moment, thinking.

  Rennard clapped his hands together. “Alright, I have to hit the road pretty soon.”

  “Right now?” Anna asked, disappointed.

  “There’s been a kidnapping in Little Rock that needs my attention. If it was not for that gosh dang paperwork, I would’ve visited you a few days ago. You know the drill.”

  “Duty calls,” Anna said, knowing full well about the career they’d chosen.

  “That it does,” the agent replied with a sigh.

  “Well, Rennard,” Anna outstretched a hand. “Till next time.”

  He took her hand and shook it firmly. “Till next time, Dedrick.”

  They lingered for a moment before pulling away from one another. Rennard gave her a tiny wave as he headed to the door. “I’ll leave your keys on the lip above your office door.”

  “Sound like a plan to me,” Anna said, and Agent Rennard disappeared into the hallway.

  Straining herself, Anna twisted to her side and lifted the business card with two fingers. She studied the distinct shield insignia imprinted on the front and flipped it over to read the phone number on the back. Her mind went to all the muck she dredged through to save the Rines girl, from the old wounds she tore open to the new scars she had collected. Through the grime, the blood, the tears, and the fire, Anna won and, in some weird way, saving that stranger’s life made it worth it.

  She squeezed her fingers together, bowing the card inward as she made her choice.

  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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