Stolen Son: A gripping psychological thriller that will have you hooked

by Cole Baxter

  “Really?” I asked.

  “This is all very stressful,” she replied hastily. “I prefer to talk to someone who can provide me with good advice, rather than load myself up on booze every night. It’s still new to me, so I don’t really want to talk about it. I’ll be home later.”

  “Okay,” I said softly. When she closed the door behind her and the alarm reset, tears welled up in my eyes. I was ruining everyone’s lives. That was another thing I had to bring up to my therapist.

  At a quarter till two, I stuffed a folder and my anti-anxiety medication into my purse and marched out the door, trying to feign confidence. I purposefully looked both ways down the street before getting into my car. Then, I quickly locked the doors and started the engine.

  When I got to the office, I took a few minutes to practice breathing deeply. I wanted to show Gloria that her brilliant work was helping me, even though I felt like a wreck. I got out of my car and jogged to the door, making eye contact with the camera attached to the front of the building. I always parked as close to security cameras as possible.

  In the waiting room, the receptionist handed me a cup of herbal tea. I took a small sip and watched small particles float to the bottom of the cup.

  “It’s supposed to be soothing,” he explained. “It might help your session.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, sipping the floral tea. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but I was willing to try anything to feel better.

  “Annabeth,” Dr. Andrews announced as she opened the door to her office. She was so regal with her tall stature and perfect posture. However, she was so warm and kind in sessions that I was able to speak freely without fear that I would disappoint her. She was an excellent therapist.

  “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” I squeaked out, setting the teacup on the table.

  “I’m happy to have you. Now, have you decided if you’d like to try hypnotherapy?”

  I nodded quickly. “Yes, I think it’s important to give it a try.”

  “Very good,” she said. “Let’s go into this room,” she said, gesturing toward a door I had never entered before. “It’s better for this type of treatment.”

  I followed her into a room far different from her typical office. The lights were dim and soft ocean sounds played from surround sound speakers. There was just one armchair in the room, next to a blanket and pillow on the floor.

  I looked to her for direction, suddenly feeling silly for requesting something out of the norm.

  “Go ahead and take your shoes off,” she said. “Do whatever you need to do to make yourself completely comfortable. Then, lie down on that mat.”

  I slipped my flats off and placed them beside the blanket. Then, I got onto the mat, surprised by how weightless I felt on it. I didn’t know what it was made out of, but I wanted one for my own home.

  “Are you comfortable?” she asked.

  “Very,” I sighed. I wanted to drift off to sleep.

  “Good. First, I want to let you know that hypnosis is not an exact science. It’s somewhat controversial in our field because a lot of scientists are skeptical of its effectiveness. Now, I wouldn’t normally use this kind of therapy, but you’re an extreme case. Your subconscious has a way of keeping things under wraps and is very strong. Normally, I’d just allow for things to run their course with talk therapy, but as I understand, there is some urgency involved.”

  “Yes,” I answered sleepily.

  “We will try it, but do not get discouraged if you aren’t able to remember anything, okay? We can always try again later.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Now, I want you to imagine that you’re standing on top of a flight of stairs with ten steps. I’m going to count down, and whenever I reach the next number, I want you to imagine yourself stepping down to the next step. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  “With each step, you are going to relax your body a little bit more. Ready?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, already entranced by her soothing voice and the comfortable floor.

  “Ten,” she counted. I closed my eyes and let my face relax. My lips parted ever so slightly.

  “Nine.” I consciously felt my limbs go heavy and sink further into the floor.

  “Eight.” I noticed my breathing had already slowed and my heart beat in a steady rhythm.

  I don’t remember much after that. I think my mind went into autopilot around five or six. However, I wasn’t completely asleep. My ears could hear her speaking to me, but the rest of me felt like I was underwater.

  “Can you hear me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “I want you to go back to your honeymoon. You’ve just gotten in the car with your new husband and you’re on your way to your accommodations. I’d like for you to go there and just take in the sights, smells, sounds, and feelings.”

  While I was typically reluctant to remember those times, my inhibitions felt lower, as if I were drunk. I allowed myself to sit in the car beside Greg as he drove down the highway.

  I remembered the smell of his car. He’d bought it about a month before the wedding, much to my chagrin. I thought it was too expensive of a purchase to be making so close to our wedding. But I liked it better than his old truck that hardly worked. This one hummed quietly and smelled like a new car. I sipped a soda as we cruised down the sunny highway, not a care in the world.

  When we stopped to get gas, I got out of the car and stretched my legs. My feet were still sore from the previous night. I was never much of a dancer, but as the bride, it was my duty to at least stand on the dance floor. I don’t think we left the reception until one in the morning.

  “Want anything from the store?” I yawned, sleepy from sitting in the car for so long.

  “I’d take some trail mix, if you’re offering,” he said with a wink.

  I grinned back at him. He was truly irresistible. I watched him for a moment as he lifted the nozzle to the tank. His biceps bulged under his short sleeves. I had the urge to go up behind him and wrap my arms around his slim waist. Later. There would be time for that later.

  After a little browsing, I grabbed a few snacks and paid for them, along with the tank of gas. Then, we got back in the car and continued toward our cabin. Greg blasted the radio and sang loudly. He was totally tone deaf, which made it all the more endearing.

  I reached over and ran a hand through his blond hair. I felt like we hadn’t been alone for months. When we were, we were always working on wedding plans. We’d try to have a date night, only to end up fretting over our choices for the wedding registry and reception dinner. He had his heart set on prime rib, while I preferred chicken. In the end, we served both.

  In the days leading up to the wedding, we decided that it might be fun to spend some time apart so that we were more excited when we were finally together. I think we made it about a day before we were sick and tired of our nagging parents and needed to blow off a little steam. However, we seemed to be flanked by friends and family at all times. Finally, we were truly alone together, and it felt amazing. We had nearly a week of vacation time before we planned on moving into our new apartment together. As a wedding gift, our friends planned on moving all of our things from our respective homes into the new apartment while we were away. The deposit and the first month of rent were already paid for. We truly didn’t have a single thing to worry about while we were away. I hardly knew what to do with the freedom!

  “This guy had better get off my ass before I brake test him,” Greg sneered, using the tough guy persona that he’d earned in the military.

  I rolled my eyes. Greg was as gentle as they came. I knew he wasn’t about to do something stupid to the guy who was tailgating us.

  “Yeah, and end up with damage to your brand-new car,” I said dryly. “Calm down, babe. He’ll pass us eventually. If I miss out on a second of our vacation because you’re having a pissing match with a stranger, I’m not going to be happy.”


  “Yes, dear,” he said sweetly as he slowed his pace to allow the car behind him to go around him. However, the car slowed down the same amount, still following much too close for comfort.

  I looked back in the rearview mirror and thought it was strange that this car wouldn’t pass us. There were several opportunities to, but it never did. I even turned around at one point, wondering if the driver was elderly or just really young and inexperienced. I saw the face of a large man with short hair but couldn’t really make out any other features. The car was a brown sedan, though. I remembered thinking that it was a really ugly color for a car. I much preferred Greg’s shiny black car.

  I jolted up from the mat, my breathing fast and panicked. I looked wildly around the room, expecting to see my attacker there with me. Instead, I saw a concerned Gloria staring back at me.

  “What did you experience?” she asked, keeping her voice calm and steady.

  “I—I saw the car,” I stammered.

  “What car, Annabeth?”

  “There was a car that followed Greg and me on our honeymoon. I remember it because it was so close to us. It never turned away, even when we were on the back road going into our cabin.”

  “And you’re sure this was your attacker?” she asked.

  “What did it look like?” Gloria asked, looking excited.

  “It was a brown sedan. Very plain, kind of ugly,” I added. “There was absolutely nothing special about it, other than the fact that it was following us too closely.”

  “Very good,” Dr. Andrews said, looking impressed. “That’s a tremendous discovery. Do you remember the driver?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but the flashback was already gone. I shook my head warily.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “You’ve already made tremendous strides.”

  “I know it was a man,” I said, thinking hard. “I never got a good look at his face. I think he was average-sized, maybe a little bigger than average. He had short hair. I don’t think there was anything about him that made him stand out—just like his car.”

  “So you saw a very average-looking man?” she asked. “That’s helpful. That will eliminate certain suspects. That’s still very good information.”

  I nodded. I didn’t feel like I remembered much, but it was better than nothing. At least I had a car. I felt pretty confident about that.

  “You’re shaking,” my therapist noted. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. “Can we try this again? I feel like I’m getting really close to remembering him. I saw the day of my honeymoon so clearly. If you can help me get to the maze, I think I could find him. I want to try.”

  Dr. Andrews took off her glasses and cleaned the lenses on her blouse. “I don’t doubt that you could regain some lost memories. However, I think it’s too much for one day. Minds are extremely fragile. If I push too hard, you might break, and then it will take much longer to get to where we want to be.”

  “When can I see you next?” I asked.

  “Let’s try the day after next. I’ll schedule you for a longer time slot in the morning. Until then, I want you to get lots of rest and try not to overexert yourself. Take your medication if you need it, but don’t overdo it. Put yourself in whatever situation you need to feel safe.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

  I rushed back to my car after setting my appointment time with the receptionist. I didn’t even double-check to make sure I was in line with the security cameras as I walked to my car. After locking the doors behind me and inserting the key into the ignition, I scrambled in my purse for my phone.

  My hands were shaking so badly that it took me three tries to type out the text message to Detective Reyes. When I pushed Send, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I was able to provide some information that could be used in the case. I had a very strong feeling that the owner of the car was directly responsible for my misery. My memory had its faults, but I saw it so clearly it was as if I was watching a film about my life.

  Before I even left the parking lot, I had a message from Gabriel.

  Awesome work. This helps a lot. I’ll begin looking up every brown vehicle that was licensed in this county before you were held captive. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.

  My chest fluttered at this praise. Now, I just had to find a way to keep myself safe and occupied for another day and a half before I could see my therapist for another hypnosis session.

  Not wanting to go home, I drove straight for the hospital to see my brother. I knew that he probably would be pretty out of it from the medications he was on, but I figured it was best if I surrounded myself with others. And, while I was mortified that my mom was asking about increased security around my brother, it might be nice to have a few extra eyes watching out for me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I showed up to my second hypnotherapy session almost a whole hour early. The receptionist looked confused when he saw me before my appointment time, but he offered me the standard cup of tea beforehand.

  “Yes, please,” I said eagerly, trying to prepare myself for the session in any way that I could. I chugged it down and was given a refill a short while later. In an attempt to stay calm like Gloria suggested, I began to flip through a magazine on her coffee table. It was one of those home improvement magazines that showed the reader all of the ways their home was deficient. I read up on ways to organize the kitchen by purchasing a whole bunch of different storage containers. Then, I read that cold water is best for cleaning blood stains and that ink could be removed with hairspray. I thought this was common knowledge.

  Then, I got to a page that explained how to build a brick wall for a backyard patio. I closed the page right there. I didn’t need to know how easy and fun it was to stack bricks to create walls. I didn’t want to imagine some guy sitting in his basement, gleefully constructing a maze to torture innocent people.

  Fortunately, Dr. Andrews finished up with her patient ahead of schedule, and I was allowed to enter her meditation room early. I really enjoyed the space. It made me feel relaxed, which was no easy task. I took a deep breath, inhaling whatever fragrant essential oils she diffused into the air. The soft light and the soothing sounds made my body feel a little heavier as I took my place on the ground. By the time she entered the room to begin, I had nearly sent myself into a trance.

  “How have you been feeling since our last session?” she asked.

  “Anxious to get back here,” I replied quickly. “I tried to obtain helpful information from my brother, but his memory hasn’t been recovered.”

  “How is he doing?” she asked.

  I bit my lip. “Not great,” I admitted. “We figured he’d be ready to start his physical therapy, but he’s still pretty weak and woozy. They’re making sure he doesn’t have an infection from his wound. I tried to talk to him yesterday, but he wasn’t feeling very well.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you heard any updates about your case?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. The detective assigned to our case has been trying to find information on every brown sedan owner in the county. I guess there are a lot more than we assumed. Besides that, there are no other leads.”

  “How does that make you feel?” she asked.

  I thought hard to come up with an apt description of every emotion that had been running through my exhausted brain. In just a short week, I’d had my son taken from me, my brother was seriously injured, and my stalker was closer than ever before. And my mom was in therapy and partially blamed me for this mess. Things really couldn’t get much worse.

  I sighed. “Completely helpless.”

  “Your being here to work on memory recovery is a lot,” she said firmly. “Don’t forget about the people who are here to help you.”

  “Okay,” I said weakly, feeling like a child.

  “So, are you ready to begin? I know you had a breakthrough last time, but I feel the need to warn you th
at you might not get such dramatic results every time. Like I said, this is not an exact science. I want you to open your mind up to the possibility that you can unlock the door to your subconscious, but I don’t want a lack of results to throw away the key. Understand?”

  “Yes, I understand,” I responded, eager to get started.

  “Then let’s begin.” She smiled warmly. “Take a moment to relax. Again, picture yourself at the top of a stairwell. Once you reach the bottom, your mind will be ready to explore everything that’s been hidden away for so long. Ten.”

  I began to soften just as I had the last time. This time, I didn’t remember hearing the number seven before I was out. However, I remained aware enough to listen to the doctor’s suggestions.

  “Today, I want you to place yourself inside the maze. You are simply a visitor, trying to observe whatever you’re able to find. You are not in danger. No one can hurt you now. You are simply walking through, as if you are in a museum of your memory. You will see through the eyes of your past self, but you can leave whenever you want to. What do you see?”

  I walked into the maze, allowing my fingers to brush against the cold brick. The awful smell returned to me, the dank, humid stink filling my nostrils.

  “It’s dark,” I said. “It smells so bad.”

  “Can you describe it to me?” Dr. Andrews asked.

  I inhaled a few times. “It has the mustiness of my grandma’s old house. It kind of smells like dirt or dust.”

  “Anything else?”

  I sniffed again. “Body odor. It’s a man who hasn’t showered or has been sweating. It’s not a nice musk, either,” I said, remembering how I strangely liked the scent of Greg’s dirty shirts at the end of a long day.

  “If you had to guess, where do you think you are? Is it a warehouse, or perhaps a cabin? Is it the main level of an old farmhouse?”

  “It’s underground,” I said with certainty. “The ground is soft in some places. There are spiders—those small, spindly ones. I think I’m in a basement. Sometimes, I hear footsteps over my head. That’s when I try to hide.”