The Abducted Super Boxset: A Small Town Kidnapping Mystery

by Roger Hayden

  “I thought that his assets were frozen,” Miriam said.

  “We did too,” Nettles said. “Looks like he’d hidden at least one account beforehand. This wily wacko is on the run.”

  Lou turned to Miriam, notepad in hand and in full detective mode. “So he called you after the, uh, shoot-out?”

  Miriam reached into her jacket pocket. “Not quite.” She pulled out the ringleader’s flip phone, caked in dried blood. “He called one of the men I shot.”

  Both Lou and Nettles seemed surprised. Lou turned back to Miriam. “Evidence from a crime scene? Miriam, you should know better.”

  She handed it to him. “It’s all yours. I’m sure you can have a team extract whatever info’s on it.”

  Nettles studied them both while rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt. An ID badge hung around his neck, dangling in front of his red tie. He breathed heavily, deep in thought, then touched Miriam’s arm like a concerned father.

  “This is what we’re going to do. We take you into another room and deputize you immediately—FBI assistant, sheriff’s deputy, I don’t give a shit. You’re getting in way too deep.”

  “You almost got yourself killed back there,” Lou added judgmentally.

  Miriam could do without the lecture, but personal pride was the least concerning thing on her mind. She needed them.

  “We know why you did it,” Nettles said. “But maybe Captain Porter was right when he said you need to step back from this.”

  “Get your head above the water,” Lou said, chiming in.

  “I’ve never been more focused,” Miriam said. She pointed past them to the window where Allison lay in bed with her parents sitting beside her. “That girl is the only hope we have. At this point, Phillip Anderson wouldn’t risk getting caught in order to play out his hand. Whether it’s twenty-four, forty-eight, or ninety-six hours, this is just another part of his game.”

  Lou and Nettles listened attentively, waiting for her to reach the conclusion of her thoughts.

  “But what if we tricked him?” she asked. They waited for more details, as though Miriam were calling the shots. Maybe she was. “We play along. Step by step.” She looked past Nettles and Lou, down the hall. “Where’s that lawyer? Kershner?”

  Lou huffed and cleared his throat. “He’s currently cozying up to the relatives, making sure their civil liberties are being protected,” he said with air quotes at the end.

  “We need to talk to him,” Miriam said. “For any of the plan to work.” She excused herself to use the restroom, leaving Nettles and Lou to ponder the specifics of the plan. Whatever it was, they shared the ominous premonition that more carnage was soon to follow.

  ***

  They reconvened in Allison’s room as she lay in bed, resting, her two concerned parents sitting by her bed keeping careful watch. A few hours had passed, enough for her to get some sleep. Miriam stood at the end of the bed, cognizant of the parents’ watchful observation. They didn’t want Allison pushed too much—that much they made clear. They were prepared to give the authorities a brief window for questioning—not to exceed twenty minutes—and then she was to be left alone.

  Miriam agreed to the terms, along with Nettles and Lou. Everything was riding on whatever vague recollections of her experience Allison could give them. From the onset, she wasn’t much of a talker. While waiting, Miriam had taken the time to be deputized as a probationary agent.

  The FBI had kept a tight lid on the theater shooting, while all of the focus of the news media remained on the debacle in Lee County and the search for the lawless mob who had murdered Greg Anderson.

  Nettles and Lou sat near the other side of the bed, opposite the parents, with their notepads out, ready to take notes. Miriam, it was decided, would do most of the talking, as Allison was already familiar with her. One of the nurses brought ice cream for Allison and handed it to her with a smile.

  Allison had loosened up considerably over the past few hours. The presence of her parents and comfortable surroundings had changed her demeanor from catatonic to polite but reserved.

  “We want to thank you again for finding our daughter,” Shelly, Allison’s mother, said to Miriam. Sitting behind his wife, Jack put one hand over hers and looked at Miriam with gratitude through his square-framed glasses.

  “Yes. We can’t thank you enough.”

  Miriam looked at Allison, smiling. “All the credit goes to your daughter. After all, she escaped. Didn’t you, Allison?”

  The girl took a bite of ice cream and shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Miriam sat at the end of the bed and inched forward. “Remember when we talked about my daughter, Ana? You knew her, right?”

  “Yeah,” Allison said.

  “I need you to help me get her back. Can you do that for me?”

  Jack looked up, puzzled. “Your daughter has been kidnapped too?”

  Miriam turned to him. “Mr. Clifton, please.”

  From his chair, Agent Nettles leaned past Miriam’s shoulder, looking at the couple. “It’s a long story, but yes.” They hadn’t filled the parents in on all the details for fear of compromising sensitive information. The Cliftons were privy to one main detail: their daughter had possible information that could lead to the capture of her kidnapper.

  Miriam turned her attention to Allison, trying to keep her focused. “We’re going to do a little exercise here. Is that okay?”

  Allison took another bite and nodded. Rain drops began pattering across the outside windows—light and then gradually thick and louder.

  “I want you to close your eyes and take me back to the first thing you remember from today.”

  Allison gave her a puzzled look, not grasping where this was leading. “You want me to go to sleep?”

  Miriam laughed. The parents kept their watchful eyes on the proceedings. “No. Just close your eyes and think back to when you were playing in your yard.”

  Allison set her cup of ice cream on her side tray, folded her hands, and closed her eyes as instructed.

  “So what are you doing?” Miriam asked.

  “I was playing in the yard. I asked Tommy if he wanted to throw the ball, but he said no and went inside.”

  “Tommy’s her younger brother,” Jack added.

  “So you’re in the yard alone. Then what?” Miriam asked.

  Allison kept her eyes closed, reciting from memory as best she could. “I went to the garage and looked for my bike, but it had a flat. So I took Tommy’s skateboard and rode it down the driveway.” Allison paused as her brows furrowed. “Then a truck came. A dirty truck with mud all over it. It stopped right by me.” Her voice grew more nervous and shaky with every development.

  Jack looked around, upset. “I’m not sure I like this, Ms. Castillo.”

  Miriam held up her hand again. “Please. We’re close, Mr. Clifton.” She leaned forward, closer, as Nettles and Lou wrote in their pads. “Go on, Allison. What next?”

  Her voice grew more frightened as she continued. “He threw me in the truck. I didn’t even see his face.”

  “What color was the truck?” Miriam asked.

  “Red…”

  “Then what?”

  “He put a blindfold on me and tied my hands up. I was screaming and crying, and then he tied a rag around my mouth.”

  Shelly gasped, covering her own mouth. She squeezed her husband’s hand, trying to remain calm. The exercise was more challenging with the parents in the room, but they insisted on being present, and Miriam had no other choice but to comply.

  “How long did you drive for?” Miriam said. “Think about how long it took.”

  “Maybe an hour,” Allison replied, her eyes still closed. “It felt like forever and I was scared.”

  Lou and Nettles continued to write, taking note of every detail she mentioned, from the truck to the distance to the hideout.

  “They took me to a quiet place with no traffic. I heard crickets. A big boat motor. It was really loud. There wer
e a bunch of other voices. Other men. They carried me to a house. Then they took the blindfold off.” Allison paused with a shiver.

  Miriam placed her hand on the blanket covering her leg. “It’s okay. You can do this.”

  “It’s some kind of cabin with, like, wood floors and stuff. It’s in the woods. I saw a bunch of vehicles outside the windows, but the rest was all trees. They take me to a big man. He tells me welcome. Then they made me go in the basement.”

  Miriam took note of every image Allison described. By the time she reached the part where she met Ana, Miriam could hardly contain her anguish. She quickly wiped her tears away and cleared her throat.

  “She said her name was Ana and that we should try to escape. I wasn’t down there long. I don’t know why they took me, but they did.”

  “My God, how did you escape, honey?” Jack said, astonished.

  Miriam turned to the parents, her eyes welling with tears. “They brought Allison to me, her face hidden under a hood as a ruse. I’m happy for your daughter, I really am. But now I’ve got to save mine.”

  She thanked Allison and gave her a hug. The little girl’s bravery had impressed her from the beginning. She left the family and beckoned Nettles and Lou to join her out in the hall.

  “What do you think?” Lou said first.

  Nettles examined his notes. “Red truck. Muddy. An hour’s drive to a cabin. Loud engines blaring, boat motor far away? Hmm.” He paused to think.

  “Airboats,” Miriam interjected.

  They looked at her with stunned realization. “That’s it. Airboats,” Nettles said. “He must be near the Southern Glades. It’s all wilderness out there.”

  Lou cut in, excited. “So we check into all of his land purchases around that area and zero in from there.”

  Nettles gave Lou a high-five. “Yeah! That’s the ticket. You see, the feds and county can work together just fine sometimes.”

  “You said it,” Lou remarked with a smile.

  With both their faces beaming with confidence, Miriam spoke up. “We need to speak to the family lawyer.”

  Their jubilation ceased as they looked at her.

  “What do you want to talk to that slime ball for?” Lou asked.

  “Because he’s Phillip Anderson’s eyes and ears, or at least one of them, right?” Miriam asked.

  Lou nodded with a shrug.

  “If that’s the case, we want Mr. Kershner to know everything that’s coming.”

  Showdown

  They moved their operations from the hospital to the Miami-Dade Police Department. Allison needed to rest, and the hospital was no place for a dozen investigators and FBI agents to run operations. It was at the station where they met Sheriff Hopkins, a no-nonsense woman who wasn’t thrilled with their unexpected presence. Miriam and the others had gathered in the sheriff’s office, hoping to curry her favor.

  “I don’t know what you all have going on, but we have our own police work to do here,” Hopkins said right off the bat.

  Agent Nettles stepped forward. “Phillip Anderson is wanted for capital murder of a police officer, among other things. We have reason to believe that he is hiding in the area or somewhere nearby. So we would ask that your department cooperate with our efforts here.”

  “I don’t need a hundred federal agents hanging out in my building,” she said in response.

  “There’s only a few of us, Sheriff,” Nettles said. “But we need your assistance.”

  She leaned back and eyed everyone in the room: Miriam, Lou, Nettles, Detective Jade and Detective Belmont—both from Lee County—and Agent Willis from the FBI.

  “I want to catch that cop-killing monster every bit as much as you do. I just don’t want y’all moving in here, that’s all.”

  “We’re not,” Nettles said.

  “Only until we catch him,” Lou said with a smile.

  Everyone turned and looked at him, shaking their heads.

  “And that’s going to happen soon,” he added. “Promise.”

  Hopkins leaned back in her chair, brought a hand to her chin, and studied the group suspiciously. “We run a tight ship around here. Our citizens expect nothing less.”

  After some deliberation, an agreement was reached, and they were allowed to set up an operations office down the hall. Miriam looked at her phone. Three hours had passed since Anderson’s ultimatum. Twenty-one left. Would he stick to his word? She had no reason to believe it, but it was the only chance she had.

  “I’ve got the lawyer on the phone,” Lou said, holding up his cell. Nettles and his partner, Agent Willis, a curly-haired older man, were observing a detailed state map they had just put up on the wall.

  All eyes turned to her as Miriam put the phone to her ear. “Mr. Kershner, this is Miriam Castillo.”

  “Yes, Ms. Castillo. It’s my understanding that you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I’m sure you’re busy representing the Anderson family, but there are a few questions I wanted to ask you.”

  Kershner laughed. “I’m actually in the process of drawing up a wrongful death suit against the county in light of Greg Anderson’s death.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “But yes, my time is limited, and I appreciate your concern.”

  Miriam got right to the point. “I wanted to inform you that we’re closing in on your client, Phillip Anderson, so you may want to get over here soon.”

  There was silence on the other end that told her everything she needed to know.

  “Mr. Kershner, are you still there?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m still here. Where are you?”

  “Miami-Dade County,” she said, walking to the map. “There’s an abandoned building where we know he’s hiding in. You see, your client jumped the gun. A & A Construction? I did a little research. It stands for Anderson and Anderson. He’s got a whole slew of buildings in the old business district, ready to refurbish, the Plaza Theater being one of them. But we’ve got the building he’s hiding in and are ready to close in.”

  Kershner was about to speak but stopped himself.

  “When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Anderson?” she asked.

  “Yesterday,” he replied. “When I told him to turn himself in.”

  “What did he say?” Miriam asked.

  “I can’t speak for Mr. Anderson’s decision-making process. And I have no knowledge of his whereabouts.”

  “Well, we do,” Miriam said. “I’m sure we’ll speak again soon. Thank you, Mr. Kershner.”

  She hung up the phone and looked at the others. Nettles stepped up to the wall, uncapped a marker, and circled the old business district on a second, smaller county map. The other detectives were trying their best to get up to speed.

  The flip phone belonging to the dead man at the theater was on top of the desk in a sealed evidence bag. Miriam set her own phone on the desk and waited for the call. There was no way, she felt, that Phillip Anderson could resist calling, certain that Kershner would alert him.

  Lou went to work and set up his recording device and GPS tracker, connecting it to the phone. Anderson had managed to block his number and location before, but maybe this time he would be careless. She wasn’t counting on it, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were close now and would track him.

  In the search for financial dealings and assets, the FBI discovered that the Andersons had ten acres just outside the Southern Everglades preserve. If he was indeed hiding out on his land, the call from Kershner would throw him off. He’d have no clue that they were closing in on him. At least that was the plan.

  For a moment, they just waited, staring at the phone. Miriam wanted confirmation from Anderson. She wanted to hear his cocky, assured tone. She felt closer to getting Ana than ever before. The detectives and FBI agents looked confident as well. There were two FBI helicopters outside the station ready to go.

  The Southern Glades were thirty miles south of them where they would find marsh lands and the very air boats Allison spoke of hearing. Such high-powere
d vessels would never be allowed on Federal Reserve land, which led Miriam to believe that Anderson’s hideout, wherever it was, was closer to the public channel, where air boats operated among fishermen and tourists.

  Her phone suddenly vibrated, displaying an unknown number. Miriam’s heart raced. She grabbed for it but stopped and let it ring a few more times.

  “It’s him,” she said. The agents stood up and gathered around the desk.

  She picked up the phone and answered it.

  “Yes?”

  “What do you think you’re up to?” a distorted voice asked.

  “Trying to find my daughter,” she answered. “And we’re getting close.”

  “Oh yeah?” he said.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Now, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but…”

  He paused.

  “But what?” Miriam asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Miriam felt it strange that they were both hiding something from each other, and neither of them wanted to say too much. She quickly changed the subject. “I want to speak to my daughter.”

  “She’s indisposed at the moment.”

  “Put her on,” she said forcefully.

  Lou looked at his GPS device as it continued to try to ping the location. He signaled for her to stretch it out. Anderson wasn’t playing ball.

  “I don’t have time for this. Gotta go,” he said.

  “Wait!” Miriam said.

  “What?” he asked with a sigh.

  “Why’d you call me?”

  “Are you with the police?” he asked.

  She paused and looked around the room. “Yes. But so what?” Her voice rose with the frustration in her tone. “How else am I supposed to get my daughter back?”

  “No police,” he said. “Just you.”

  “You know that that’s impossible,” she said.

  “Listen. I’m giving you a chance here. Anyone else in their right mind wouldn’t even bother. And you wanna know what I just did earlier? I brought dinner down to your daughter. How’s that for a bad guy?”

  The GPS on her phone had yet to pick up a signal. Frustrated, Lou looked to Nettles and vented under his breath. “Must be scrambling the signal again.”