The Abducted: Odessa – A Small Town Abduction - Book One

by Roger Hayden

  “Yes, Detective Hayes. We have a visitor. Says he was called to the station.”

  Shelton approached the door, suspicious. “Who is it?”

  “Walter Browning’s doctor,” Taylor said. “At least he claims to be.”

  Shelton and Hayes exchanged curious looks.

  “His doctor?” Hayes said.

  “Something like that,” the corporal said. “Do you want to speak with him?”

  Miriam stood up. “The therapist. His card was in Browning’s wallet. I didn’t know if he was actually a patient or not.”

  “He’s waiting in the lobby,” Taylor said, stepping aside.

  The prospect of having someone there who knew Walter Browning excited her. The detectives walked out of the office as Miriam followed. Things weren’t slowing down and the call home would have to wait.

  Outside the room, the station was still abuzz with activity. Miriam noticed a mounted television in the corner with a news alert that said “Natalie Forester Found” in big bold letters on the screen. The word was out. Miriam approached the old-fashioned front counter where a man stood, turned around with hands in his pocket and reading the station bulletin board.

  Corporal Taylor signaled toward the man. “That’s him.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” Detective Hayes bellowed out.

  Interest in their visitor was mutually heightened. He stood with his back to them, wearing a navy blue suit with black dress shoes. He had a full head of trimmed gray hair, and as he turned around, he exposed a thin and clean-shaven face, big blue eyes, and glasses that reflected the light from above.

  With a wave, he immediately approached the counter and extended his hand. Hayes introduced himself and Detective Shelton. Miriam stood cautiously behind the men, not saying anything yet. The man didn’t seem to notice her, which was how she wanted it.

  “My name is Dr. Trudeau,” he said with a smooth, velvety voice. “I was contacted earlier about Mr. Browning, my patient.”

  “You are… or you were Mr. Browning’s doctor?” Hayes asked.

  The man laughed, eyes upward, and then clasped his hands together. “Well, yes. But more specifically, I’m his therapist. Mr. Browning came to me two years ago, through court-mandated therapy.”

  “What was his crime?” Shelton asked with his pocket notepad out and prepared to take notes.

  “I don’t recall entirely,” the therapist said. “He got into a fight.”

  Miriam then stepped forward without formally introducing herself. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice, Doctor.”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been asked here. You might say I’m called upon as a criminal psychiatrist from time to time.”

  Dr. Trudeau looked beyond the detectives and curiously gazed at Miriam. Hayes then turned to introduce her. “This is Lieutenant Sandoval with the Phoenix Police Department. She’s acting as an advisor for this investigation.”

  The doctor studied her for a moment and then scratched his chin. “You look strangely familiar.”

  Miriam looked downward with clear reservations. “Yes, my name has been mentioned a few times in this case.”

  His eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, yes. You solved the Snatcher case all that time ago. Great work.”

  Trudeau noticed Miriam’s apprehension and mimicked zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that we talked.”

  “We’d like to ask you some questions about Mr. Browning if we could,” Miriam said.

  Trudeau grabbed a briefcase on the table and looked prepared to enter the station. “I’m willing to discuss whatever I can within the confines of the law.”

  “The law?” Hayes asked.

  “Yes, Detective,” he said, patting the side of his briefcase. “Doctor-patient privilege, you know? The law requires me to report any physical acts of violence and abuse discussed in therapy sessions, but also protects the disclosure of said confidential sessions, where the patient wishes to prevent the disclosure of confidential information.”

  Shelton took a step forward. “And did Mr. Browning ask for such confidentiality in your sessions?”

  “Many times, yes,” Trudeau said. “But I say with confidence that nothing to my recollection thoroughly expressed criminal intent.”

  Hayes turned to Shelton, seemingly convinced that the doctor could offer them some assistance. Miriam hadn’t made up her mind yet, but he was the best link they had.

  “Let’s get him a temporary badge and into holding, so we can talk in private,” Hayes said. He then faced the doctor and held his hand out. “Can we get some identification, please?

  Dr. Trudeau reached into his pocket without issue and pulled out his wallet, relinquishing his driver’s license. “I even brought copies of my latest best-seller if you’d like to purchase a copy.”

  “You’re an author?” Shelton asked, clearly impressed.

  Trudeau nodded. “I have three published books in the therapeutic self-help field.” He then observed the busy station behind them, breaking his concentration. “Hope this isn’t a bad time. I just heard about this shooting on the news. Still in a state of shock, actually.”

  “It’s a perfect time,” Miriam said. “We have a room where we can speak privately.”

  “Are you from around here?” Shelton asked.

  Trudeau looked around as Hayes handed him his driver’s license back. “I live two towns over in Midland, where my practice is.”

  “Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Miriam said. She wanted the doctor comfortable and feeling appreciated. Whatever it took to get him talking.

  “Not a problem,” he said. “Ready when you are.”

  Corporal Taylor suddenly entered the picture with a sticker badge and handed it to Hayes, who in turn gave it to the doctor.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been at the station,” Trudeau said as he placed the visitor sticker over the chest of his suit coat. “Always glad to help.”

  “We need to know everything you can tell us about Walter Browning,” Miriam said.

  “Without violating your doctor-patient privilege, of course,” Hayes added with a tinge of sarcasm.

  Miriam leaned closer with a deep urgency in her eyes. “Right now, you’re the only one who knew him. Records show no immediate next of kin, no significant other, and until we interview his co-workers at the Food Mart, no friends or associates.”

  “I’m at your service,” Trudeau said with his arms out.

  Suddenly, Captain Vasquez shouted across the room. “Hayes! Shelton! Need both of you now!”

  They turned to each other with a slight eye roll.

  “We’ll be one minute,” Hayes said.

  Shelton then handed Miriam a digital recorder. “Sit him down and ask him whatever questions necessary. Use this to record whatever he says. We’ve got to brief the Captain. He’s supposed to deliver a statement within the hour.”

  “No problem,” Miriam said.

  She believed that Trudeau’s arrival, like everything else that day, served a purpose. Her flight back to Arizona was in two days, but she wasn’t ready. The pieces were there. Miriam felt that whoever was involved would be caught soon enough.

  “We’ll be back,” Hayes said, turning away.

  Dr. Trudeau rocked back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pockets. He then waved to the two detectives as they walked off. Corporal Taylor had disappeared as well.

  “Shall we begin?” Miriam asked.

  Trudeau peeked over her shoulder, examining all the activity taking place beyond the lobby. “I’ve never seen anything like this in all my years of working with this department.”

  “Can I get you anything? Water or a soda or anything?” she asked.

  “I’m fine for now, thank you,” he said.

  Miriam extended her arm to the side and toward the holding room. Trudeau walked past the front counter and stood for a moment, observing the other officers deep in their work.


  “Right this way,” she said.

  “Yes, of course,” he said, turning to her.

  He had a friendly, professional aura to him. If Walter Browning’s death had upset him, he was good at concealing it.

  Once in the room, they sat, Miriam in one of the detective’s chairs and Trudeau where she had been. She placed Shelton’s cell phone on the table next to his notebook and pen. She turned on the phone recorder, prepared to get into the mind of Walter Browning.

  “Can I get your full name please and your consent to be recorded?” she asked.

  Trudeau leaned back, arms folded. She could tell he was getting a sense of enjoyment being a part of the investigation.

  “My name is Dr. Nicholas Trudeau, and I give my consent to be recorded.”

  “Great,” Miriam said. “First, Doctor, I’d like to discuss Walter Browning. You said that he was your patient. Today, one of the two kidnapped victims, Natalie, was found locked in a guest room against her will. Mr. Browning resisted arrest and was shot as a result.”

  Trudeau looked strangely disturbed by the news. For a moment, he said nothing, then opened his mouth with a vacant start. “I can’t believe he’s actually dead, that he was involved in any of this. I wish I could have helped him.”

  Miriam glanced at the recorder then back at the doctor. “I wouldn’t blame yourself, Doctor. What I’m most interested in is known acquaintances, names, people he spoke of. We know that he wasn’t working alone.”

  The doctor looked up, thinking to himself. “Walter, Mr. Browning, I mean… he was a peculiar man. He spoke freely of weaknesses, vices, and other urges, but I never thought he’d act on anything. I felt that I had him contained. That we were making progress. He had moved to Odessa to escape his past as he put it. Before then, he had a wife, a decent job, and a lovely home. All of that fell apart, he told me, after a neighbor girl accused him of… certain indiscretions.”

  “What did he do?” Miriam asked without hesitating.

  Trudeau cleared his throat and spoke carefully. “He was accused of touching her inappropriately and charged with improper contact with a minor. He claimed, however, that the fifteen-year-old was obsessed with him. She tried to kiss him, and when he resisted her advances, she was furious.”

  “So, he has a history of this kind of thing,” Miriam said.

  “He spent six months in prison. Life for Walter wasn’t the same after that. His wife left him, the community shunned him, and his reputation was never the same.”

  “When did he move here?” Miriam asked.

  “Five years ago, I believe.”

  “And you would say that he was a man who largely kept to himself?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely,” Trudeau said.

  “But he worked at the Food Mart. Surely he had made a friend or two in that time.”

  “He did speak of a man, a co-worker,” Trudeau said.

  “Who was this co-worker?” Miriam asked while scribbling notes.

  “His name was Ken,” Trudeau said. “Walter spoke glowingly about him and expressed an admiration for their friendship.”

  Miriam wrote down the name and then moved her chair closer to the table. “Does Ken have a last name?”

  “I’m sure he does,” Trudeau said, “but I never heard it.”

  “These urges Mr. Browning spoke of. Were they directed toward minors? Had he ever spoken about kidnapping women? Tying them to the bed, perhaps?”

  Trudeau stared ahead in deep thought with his finger across his chin. “I knew that when I came here, the police would want clear and useful information, so I don’t want to beat around the bush. Do I believe Mr. Browning to be capable of the things you say? At times, yes. But I never saw his violent side. He was a quiet man, shy and passive.”

  “What about children?” Miriam said. “Did he concern you as someone who was a threat to children?”

  Trudeau thought to himself again with clear reservations. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose much more than I already have.”

  “Please, Doctor. We need to find out who we’re dealing with,” Miriam said.

  Trudeau sighed while rubbing his forehead. He then dropped both arms onto the table and spoke just above a whisper. “He sometimes expressed a disdain for a sickness. Something he referred to as an abnormal attraction toward younger people. But we were working on it. Trying to curtail this perversion. We were very close!”

  Not likely, Miriam thought. It appeared that Browning failed to suppress his urges after all. She felt sick at the thought of Natalie Forester being the recipient of his sickness and hoped she had rescued the girl before she could have been assaulted.

  “I don’t believe his interest in girls was entirely sexual,” Trudeau continued. “He often talked about a need to relate to girls, wanting to be their friends and so forth. In my experience, this type of pedophilia disorder takes its time. It’s safe to assume that Natalie Forester wasn’t assaulted. We can only hope.”

  “We’ll know for sure after they run the tests at the hospital,” Miriam said. She clenched her fists in anger and took a deep breath.

  Trudeau studied her for a moment before speaking. “You would know the type, correct, Lieutenant?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The Snatcher case. Phillip Anderson. He had a proclivity for young girls as well.”

  “That’s correct,” she said. But she no longer wanted to talk about Phillip Anderson or the Snatcher case. There was a new sicko out there, possibly more than one, and it started with Walter Browning. “Whoever was associated with Mr. Browning wanted him to get caught. He practically drew me a road map.”

  “That’s interesting,” Trudeau said, “but I don’t know what to tell you. Mr. Browning rarely ever spoke of others. He played video games with a man from work named Ken. That’s as much as I can remember.”

  Miriam sighed. “It’s a start.” She then noticed the time. It was already late afternoon and they had other places to investigate. She looked up at Trudeau, palms flat on her notebook. “I appreciate you coming in today, Doctor. We’d definitely like to keep the line open.”

  “Certainly,” he said, rising from his chair. He adjusted his silver wristwatch and then reached into his coat pocket and handed her his card. “Feel free to contact me for anything else. I always return calls.”

  They shook hands as Miriam led him out of the room.

  “Thanks so much,” she said.

  They had reached the front counter when Trudeau spun around on his heel, facing her. “Oh! There’s something I wanted to give you. It might help you with this case.”

  Miriam glanced downward at his hands, but there was nothing.

  “It’s in my car,” he said, waving toward the exit. “Can you step out for a minute?”

  Miriam looked around the station. Nothing had changed. She could see Detective Hayes and Detective Shelton behind the glass of an office in the corner with the door closed. Captain Vasquez stood near a desk surrounded by brass with his face reddened and angry and his mouth moving a mile a minute. She could stand to get some fresh air.

  She went outside with Trudeau, noticing a comforting overcast sky. There was a slight breeze in the air and clouds shielding the merciless sun for the time being. Trudeau spoke of his fondness of Odessa and how he didn’t visit the town nearly enough as he’d like to.

  Miriam listened as they walked across the parking lot to a far corner space where a silver Mercedes was parked. She knew it was his car before he even pulled his keys out and unlocked the doors via key remote. In response, the taillights blinked and Trudeau opened the left passenger door, pulling out a paperback book. Miriam should have known.

  “This might just come in handy for you. It’s on the house.”

  Miriam observed the minimalist white cover with color letters saying “Inside the Mind of a Man Child.” His name adorned the top of the cover in bold letters, “from best-selling author Doctor Nicholas Trudeau.”

  “It�
��s my newest book,” he said excitedly. “I’ll even sign it for you.”

  Miriam stood aside, feeling slightly awkward as he opened the book and scribbled onto a page. He handed her the book with a smile. Her face, however, was a little more reserved.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking at the title.

  “My pleasure, Lieutenant.”

  “Quick question, Doctor,” she said, holding his book at her side. “How do you personally feel about Walter Browning?”

  His smile remained, but she could see that his eyes told a different story. “Not sure exactly what you mean. He was my patient. It was my job to try to help him.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But now he’s dead. Does that upset you?”

  He took a defensive step back, his face more serious. “Yes, but he also kidnapped an innocent girl. God knows what he would have done had you not intervened.”

  “Of course,” Miriam said. “Thank you again for coming here today.”

  They shook hands again and Miriam turned from his car and walked back to the station. His engine revved as he quickly backed out and drove away. Miriam turned around and watched the Mercedes leave the station parking lot. She believed the good doctor knew more than he was saying. It wouldn’t be their last meeting. Walter Browning had a partner in crime. The man who called Miriam could have been anyone, and now Ken at the Food Mart was the only lead she had.

  Hot Spots

  Miriam emerged from the emergency room where she had received disinfectant, stitches, and a small bandage on her right earlobe. The doctor said she would have the tiny piece missing as a reminder of how close the bullet had come to her head. After an hour-long ordeal, it was time to see Natalie Forester.

  Doug and Kim Forester sat anxiously in their daughter’s hospital room as a doctor stood over her bed talking to her. Miriam, Detective Shelton, and Detective Hayes watched from a window outside the room. They needed a statement from the young girl but wanted to ensure that her parents were calm and cooperative first.

  Miriam could understand their frazzled state despite the relief of their daughter’s recovery. Natalie lay on the bed with a bandage covering one side of her face. There was a tray of food in front of her, barely touched, and a glass of water. She was awake and lying under the covers with one hand squeezing her mother’s.