by David Archer
Givens looked at their IDs and then at the two of them before shrugging and holding the door for them to enter. “Come on in,” he said. “Don’t know how I can be of any help, but I’m willing to try.”
EIGHT
Givens' living room was small but comfortable, but had a lack of knickknacks and personal possessions. The furniture was old and somewhat worn, and no two pieces seemed to match. The wallpaper was faded and the trim needed new paint, but there was a homey-ness about the place that felt familiar. Sam realized that it was the sense of a child having lived and played there that made it feel that way.
Lou Givens himself didn't look nervous, but both Sam and Denny noticed the way his fingers locked onto the arms of his chair as he lowered himself into it. They took seats on the sofa and watched him for a moment, and then Sam spoke.
"Mr. Givens, we'd like to ask some questions about your son, Kenny," he said. “I understand he was abducted about twenty-five years ago.”
“Yeah, I figured that’s what this is about,” Givens said. “I saw in the paper they been looking into that old case about Jensen. Every time they start digging into that, somebody comes around asking about when I knew him, after what happened to Kenny.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what you expect to find after all this time.”
Sam leaned forward. “I just want to get a sense of what was happening around that time,” he said. “I know that your son was taken, but I don’t really have a lot of details. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I can tell you the same thing I told the cops back then,” Givens said. “Brenda, she was my wife, we got up that morning and I went to wake Kenny for breakfast, and he was gone. His bedroom window was standing wide open and there was no sign of him. I thought for a minute that maybe he just climbed out the window, but he couldn’t have opened it himself. When I realized that, I knew somebody had taken him. We looked all through the house just to be safe, then I called the police. They started working on it right then, even did a house to house search around the area, but didn’t come up with anything. It was like he just disappeared into thin air.”
“Yes, that’s what I read in the reports,” Sam said. “Now, you were the one who found him, right?”
Givens nodded. “Yeah, it was about a month later. I was driving past our old house and spotted him sitting on the front steps. At first, I couldn’t believe it was really true, but I stopped the car and walked up to him, and—and it was him. I grabbed him up in a hug and held him close, and I tried to ask him where he had been, but he said he didn’t know. I took him to the police station and called my wife, but Kenny said he didn’t know where he had been or who had taken him. He just kept talking about somebody he called the bunny man. The cops made me take him to the hospital, they checked him over there and said he was fine. He was real pale, I remember that, and the doctors said he must’ve been kept somewhere dark. Kenny said that was right, but that was all he knew.”
“Okay. Now, one thing I read in the report that had me kind of confused; you moved into this house while Kenny was still missing?”
Givens looked him in the eye. “Yeah, everybody thought that was odd,” he said. “The thing is, we had just made the deal to buy this place when Kenny disappeared. We’d already sold our house, so we had no choice but to move. It was just a stroke of luck that I happened to drive past the old place the day Kenny got loose.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense,” Sam said. “How did Kenny get loose? Did you ever figure that out?”
Givens shook his head. “All he ever said was that the bunny man had him put him into a big box and carried him out. He said they got into a car and he could feel it moving, but then it stopped and the box was set down on the ground. He heard the car drive away and pushed his way out of the box, and he was right in front of the old house. He went and tried to get in, but the door was locked, so he sat down on the steps. I guess he thought my wife and I were out, and he was waiting for us to get home.”
“And you never had any idea who might have taken him?”
“No, sir,” Givens said. “The police never did figure it out.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you think it had something to do with that Pastor Jensen?”
“We’re not sure,” Sam said. “Did you happen to know Pastor Jensen?”
Givens looked at him for a moment, then nodded his head. “Yes, but not well,” he said. “He came to talk to us a few times, while Kenny was missing. My wife really appreciated it, he gave her hope. Why?”
Sam hesitated for a couple of seconds, but then said, “Well, it’ll be in the news tonight anyway. We found the remains of a little boy in a hidden cellar under the pastor’s house today. It looks like he may have been kidnapping young boys and keeping them prisoner. I was wondering if you ever considered him a suspect in your son’s disappearance.”
Givens’ eyes went wide. “Jensen? No, of course not. My goodness, you actually found…”
“We did, yes,” Denny said. “A small boy. The cellar he was in would have been very dark, so it could be the same place your boy was kept.”
Givens shook his head. “I never woulda thought… I mean, everything they said about him when he was killed, I thought the guy was some kind of saint. He was always nice to us.”
“Mr. Givens, we know that Kenny is still around here somewhere. Do you talk to him very often?”
He scoffed. “Kenny? Hell, he don’t even come around. After his mom died, he come around a couple of times and then just stopped. He said he couldn’t put up with my attitude, can you believe that?”
“What seemed to be the problem between the two of you?” Sam asked.
“I wanted him to get a job, act like an adult,” Givens said. “He don’t want no truck with that. He says he makes all the money he wants just doing his computer crap, he don’t think he needs to bother with a regular job. I told him, I said, it might not be that long before he decides he wants a family or something, and he’ll need things like insurance, stuff like that. You don’t get that hustling computer crap.”
Sam nodded. “He sounds rather rebellious,” he said. “Would you have any idea where we can find him? I’d like to ask him a few questions, as well.”
Givens shrugged again. “Last I knew, about three months ago, he was hanging out with some girl over on Sundown Lane. She goes by Fiona Jones, but I don’t think that’s her real name.”
“Fiona Jones? Do you know anything else about her?”
“Not a lot. She’s another computer nerd, like Kenny, but I don’t know what all she’s into.”
Sam made a mental note, then looked at Givens again. “Mr. Givens, we’ve heard that Kenny used to write stories about people who harm children. Were you aware of that?”
“Oh, Lordy, yes. He was always writing stuff like that, even when he was a lot younger. Some of it was pretty disgusting, to be honest. I was figured it was just his way of dealing with what happened to him.”
Sam and Denny looked at one another, then back at Givens. “I don’t suppose you have any of those old stories laying around?”
Givens touched his tongue to his upper lip for a second, then held up a finger as if to tell them to wait. He got up out of his chair and left the room for a moment, then came back with a small spiral-bound notebook. He handed it to Sam.
“This was his writing book,” he said. “Lots of stories in there, and not all of them are that sort.”
Sam opened the book, and Denny leaned in close to look over his shoulder. The handwriting was obviously that of a young boy, with most words simply printed, rather than in cursive. The first entry was a story about a ten-year-old boy who discovered a dragon hiding in his backyard. The two of them became fast friends, and the dragon became his protector. When monsters tried to break into his home, the dragon fought them off with its fiery breath.
The second story started out to be about a happy little boy named Scooby, but then a man broke into the house one night and took him away. Sam and Denny read about how the man
put the little boy in a cave under his house and kept him chained up so that he could not escape. He was given food and water, and once in a while, he was even allowed into the man’s house, but only when the man’s face was covered with a mask. Those days were the best, Scooby thought, because he was allowed to play with toys the man kept in a box.
One day, while the little boy was in the cave, the man brought in another little boy, whose name was Kenny. They were going to be friends, the man told them, but Kenny was always afraid. He cried a lot, and then he began to get sick. One night, after Scooby went to sleep, Kenny disappeared and was never seen again. Scooby missed him a lot, so much that he changed his name to Kenny so he would never forget him.
Sam and Denny looked at one another, then Sam turned back to Mr. Givens. “Did Kenny ever go to counseling after what happened?” he asked.
Givens suddenly looked nervous. “Counseling? Good Lord, no. I wasn’t about to let any of those head shrinkers get their hooks into him. He been through enough, he didn’t need them poking around inside his head. No sirree, Bob, we didn’t need none of that. Me and his mama took care of him, and that’s all he needed.”
Sam just looked at him for a moment, then held up the notebook. “Would you mind if I hang on to this for a bit?” he asked. “I’d like to show it to someone, see if maybe it might hold some clues to whether Jensen was the one who abducted your son.”
Givens then grimaced, but then he nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine,” he said. “I read all those so many times I probably know them by heart, anyway. I’d like to get it back when you’re done with it, though.”
Sam promised to return it, and then he and Denny got up to leave. Givens walked them to the door, but Sam suddenly turned and looked at him again.
“Mr. Givens, do you know if the police ever spoke with Pastor Jensen?”
Givens looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “They might have,” he said. “You know, now that I think of it, there was one detective who asked about him, asked if we had any problems with him. I said we didn’t, of course.”
“A detective? Do you remember his name?”
Givens looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
Sam took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to him. “If you happen to remember, please call me. I’d like to speak to that detective if he’s still around.”
Givens took the card and nodded. Sam and Denny turned to walk away, and Givens stood and watched as they got into their car and backed out of the driveway.
The two of them waited until they had driven away to speak, and it was Denny who said it first.
“We need to find Kenny, Sam,” he said. “Something tells me he’s the key to figuring out what really happened to Jensen.”
Sam nodded, his eyes on the road. “I agree.” He took out his phone and hit the speed dial for Indie, then put it on speaker.
“Hey, babe,” she answered.
“Indie, I need to locate a woman who goes by Fiona Jones, probably a hacker here in Boulder. According to Kenny’s dad, he was last known to be living with her.”
“Fiona Jones? Hang on a minute,” she said, and Sam could hear the keys clacking on her computer. “Yep, I thought I recognized that name. I’ve been tracking some of Kenny’s hacking work online. He goes by BitStryker, and one of the people he works with a lot is called FoxyJo. I traced FoxyJo to the name Fiona Jones. She lives in an apartment at 2800 Sundown Lane, apartment 4.”
“Got it,” Sam said. “Any background on her?”
“She’s in her mid twenties, actually has a degree in computer science. She seems to be a white hat, uses her skills to try to do good, ripping off bad guys online. People who deal in stolen credit cards, child pornography, people like that. Their money disappears, and then somehow the appropriate authorities suddenly find out who they are and where to find them. She’s got a pretty good record of getting them busted.”
“I guess that’s one way to make money,” Sam said.
“Oh, she doesn’t keep it,” Indie said quickly. “She donates all of it to various legitimate charities, anonymously. Looks like it’s usually to groups that fight child sex trafficking.”
Sam and Denny looked at one another. “Okay, babe, thanks,” Sam said. “We’re going to see if we can find her and Kenny.” He started to add a goodbye, then stopped. “What about Kenny? Does he help her with that kind of stuff?”
“He’s got his own gig,” Indie said. “Kenny is an internet security expert, and he specializes in cracking through the toughest firewalls and security measures out there, but only on dark web sites that are involved in criminal activity. As far as I can tell, he’s the one responsible for breaking the case on the drug ring that was flooding Europe with meth last year. They were doing everything online, and he leaked some of their highest passwords to the European Intelligence and Situation Center.”
“I read about that,” Denny said. “It was a big takedown. This Kenny sounds like our kind of people, Sam.”
“I agree. Indie, thanks. We’ll let you know what we find out.” He ended the call and dropped his phone back into his pocket.
“I’ve got the directions,” Denny said, holding out his phone to show the nav app. “Shall we head over there now?”
Sam nodded. “Damn right,” he said. “I want to know what Kenny knows, and I’ve got a hunch it’s going to be something pretty big.”
Denny raised an eyebrow. “Mind sharing what you mean by that?”
“It’s that story,” Sam said. “The little boy changed his name to Kenny, remember? So he’d never forget his little friend who disappeared?”
“Right,” Denny said. “You think that’s important?”
Sam set his jaw as he looked through the windshield. “I just have a feeling that it could be.”
NINE
With Denny’s nav to guide them, they found the apartment building with no problem and parked at the side of the building, out of sight of any of the windows. Sam knew the SUV looked like a law enforcement vehicle and didn’t want to spook either of the people they were looking for.
They entered the building and saw that there were four apartments on each floor, with apartment 4 being the one in back on the right. They stood in front of it for a couple of seconds and heard music coming from inside, and then Sam knocked.
A woman with purple streaks in her black hair opened the door as far as the safety chain would allow and peeked out. “Yeah?” she said.
Sam and Denny held up their IDs. “I’m Sam Prichard, and this is Denny Cortlandt. We’re investigators with Windlass Security, and we’re looking for Fiona Jones and Kenny Givens. Neither of them is in any trouble, we’re just hoping they might be able to help shed some light on something for us.”
The woman looked at their IDs for a moment, then looked back up at Sam. “You’re the private eye from Denver, right? The guy who stopped the nuke at Lake Mead?”
Sam grinned. “Guilty,” he said. “You read my wife’s blog?”
She shook her head. “No. I hacked the DHS to find out what really happened out there, and your name was all over it. And if you’re thinking about busting me for that, think again. I don’t leave any evidence behind, so you can’t prove I’m not blowing smoke up your ass.” She closed the door and took off the chain, then opened it again and waved a hand to invite them in. “Come on in and have a seat. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll help if I can.”
“Thank you,” Sam said as they stepped into the living room. Sam was leaning on his cane and Fiona glanced at it, then pointed at a chair.
“Take a load off, man. You look like you could use it.”
Sam grinned at her. “Thanks,” he said as he sank into the big recliner. Denny took a seat on another chair as Fiona sat on the couch that faced them.
“Okay, I’m Fiona,” she said. “As far as Kenny goes, I haven’t seen him for a couple weeks. He comes and goes as he pleases, so I never know when he’ll show up
. What is this about?”
“Fiona, did Kenny ever talk to you about what happened when he was a child?” Sam watched her face closely.
“About when he was kidnapped, you mean?” she asked. “He told me it happened, but it isn’t something he likes to talk about.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you guys looking into that old case?”
“Actually, we were brought in to help with another old case,” Denny said. “Reverend Martin Jensen was murdered about twenty-five years ago, beaten to death in his own kitchen. Nobody was ever charged with the crime, and a lot of people think it’s time to put that case to bed.”
“Unfortunately,” Sam cut in, “it’s opened up a whole new avenue of investigation. During a walk-through of Pastor Jensen’s home, a hidden trap door was discovered. In the cellar underneath the house, the police found the remains of a little boy who died there. We think he might have been alive at the time Jensen was killed, but we’re waiting for forensics to give us more information about that.”
Fiona nodded slowly. “So, now you think Jensen might’ve been the one who took Kenny, right?”
Sam made a noncommittal gesture. “We think it’s possible,” he said. “We know that Kenny has written stories about abducted children, and we actually wonder if he might have some information about some of the other children that went missing around that time.”
She bit her bottom lip for a couple of seconds. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she said. “Like I said, it’s not something he likes to talk about. If you think it’s important, though, I can probably get word to him that you need to talk to him. Would that help?”
“Do you think he’ll be willing to talk to us?” Sam asked. “I’d hate to scare him off before we get to talk to him about this.”
“If there’s one thing Kenny hates,” Fiona said, “it’s people who hurt children. He’s dedicated his life to stopping people like that, so I think you’ll be able to get his attention. Hold on just a minute.” She reached on the coffee table and picked up her cell phone, then let her thumbs fly over it. A moment later, it chimed as she got a response to her text message, and she grinned. “He’ll be here in ten minutes,” she said, and then she looked up at them again. “Would you guys like some coffee? I just made a fresh pot before you got here.”