More Than It Seems

by David Archer

  “That would be lovely,” Denny said, and Sam echoed him. Fiona got up and went into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a carafe and four cups on a tray. She poured a cup for each of them, and pointed to the sugar bowl and creamer.

  Sam and Denny were halfway through their coffee when the sound of a motorcycle came clearly through the walls. They could tell it came to a stop outside, and the engine died a second later. Fiona grinned, but didn’t move from her spot on the couch, and a moment later, the front door opened and they got their first look at Kenny Givens.

  Kenny was just short of six feet tall and wiry, with wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes. He eyed Sam and Denny cautiously, then glanced at Fiona. She smiled and patted the couch beside her. Kenny stood there for another couple of seconds, then walked over and sat down where she had indicated. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him and he took a sip of the black liquid.

  “I’m Kenny,” he said. “What’s this all about?”

  Sam glanced at Fiona and she said, “I didn’t tell him anything. I figured it would be better coming from you guys. I just told him he needed to come talk to you.”

  Sam nodded his gratitude and turned to Kenny. “Kenny, my name is Sam Prichard. I’m a private investigator with Windlass Security out of Denver, and my partners and I have been asked to assist the Boulder Police Department with an old case, the murder of Pastor Martin Jensen about twenty-five years ago.”

  Kenny nodded. “I’ve heard about that,” he said. “Somebody beat him to death, right?”

  “That’s right, mate,” Denny said. “I’m Denny Cortlandt, also with Windlass.”

  Kenny looked at him for a moment, then turned back to Sam. “So, what’s all this got to do with me?”

  “Earlier today, there was a hidden trap door found in the kitchen of Pastor Jensen’s house. Under the kitchen floor, the remains of a small boy were found. It appears he may have been trapped down there at the time Jensen was killed.”

  Kenny’s eyes were wide and he was staring at Sam. “It was a dark space? Rock walls and a dirt floor?”

  Sam nodded. “The walls were concrete, but there was a lot of stone in it. Does that sound familiar to you, Kenny?”

  Kenny shrugged and tried to make his face relax. “There’s lots of dark basements,” he said. “That doesn’t really mean anything.”

  “No, in itself I guess it wouldn’t,” Sam said. “On the other hand, the trap door was underneath the kitchen stove. It had a padlock on it, and one of my team suddenly got a hunch and took a look under the false bottom of the cabinet beside the stove and found the key.”

  The eyes went wide again. “What made him look there?” he asked.

  Denny leaned forward. “He said he read a story once, about a trap door under the kitchen range, and he said that’s where the key was kept in the story. He also said you wrote that story. You let him read it once several years ago, when you were talking to him online.”

  Kenny’s eyebrows lowered. “What’s his name?”

  “Eric Brenner,” Sam said. “He works with us now.”

  Kenny stared at him for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “Eric? Last I heard, he got locked up for hacking into something he wasn’t supposed to get near. He’s out of jail now?”

  “He didn’t go to jail,” Sam said. “He was actually put into an institution for genius level kids, but now he works with us. I’m glad you remember him. Kenny, where did you get the idea for that scenario in your story?”

  Kenny licked his lips. “I think it was from a dream,” he said. “I remember having dreams about a trap door under a kitchen stove, so I think that’s where it came from.” He glanced at Fiona, then turned back to Sam. “Now it sounds like maybe that dream was really a memory. You think this Jensen is the one who kidnapped me?”

  “I’ll confess I’m leaning in that direction,” Sam said. “From what I’ve read, you said you never saw the face of the person who took you. Is that correct?”

  Kenny nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “He always wore a mask whenever he came around me. It was a rabbit mask, like the Easter Bunny or something.”

  “In the cellar where we found the remains, there were chains hooked to the wall. Do you remember anything like that?”

  Kenny closed his eyes for a second, then popped them open again. “Yeah,” he said. “When he first got me, he put chains on my legs, my ankles. After a little while, maybe a couple weeks, he took them off. He said I didn’t need them anymore because I was being good.”

  “You never tried to escape?”

  “Of course I did. Anytime it got quiet upstairs, I tried to push that trap door open, but it never would budge. Now that I think about it, I saw the way it was hidden under the stove the first time he took me upstairs and let me play with toys. After that, I figured there was no way I could get out, so I just sorta gave up.”

  “That’s completely understandable,” Sam said. “Kenny, we went and visited your father a little while ago. He…”

  “Really? How is the old bastard?” Kenny grinned at him. “Pop never cared much for my lifestyle. He always wanted me to get a regular job, but I’ve always had trouble dealing with people telling me what to do.” He gave a shrug. “I think it has something to do with being trapped in that basement for so long. When I got out, I decided I was never going to feel helpless again. People try to tell me what to do, it makes me feel like I’m not in control of my life anymore.”

  “He seemed in good health, and decent spirits. Kenny, he let me have a notebook where you had written some of your stories. There’s one particular one that I saw that caught my attention. It was about a little boy named Scooby. Do you remember that one?”

  Kenny’s eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side as he looked at Sam. “Scooby? Yeah, vaguely,” he said. “I’m not real sure where I got that one.”

  “In the story, Scooby says there’s another little boy that comes into the cellar with him. That little boy’s name was Kenny, but he wasn’t there very long. One day he disappeared and Scooby decided to change his name to Kenny so he would never forget him. Does that sound familiar?”

  His head still cocked to the right, Kenny nodded slowly. “Yeah, a little bit. That’s kind of weird. I don’t really remember the story all that well, but it’s weird that I would say he changed his name. And to my name? That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

  “Kenny, were there any other children brought in while you were there? Think hard, it could be very important.”

  Kenny open his mouth and started to speak, but then paused. He closed it and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again slowly.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I had completely forgotten about it until now, but there was another boy. I can’t remember his name, but I remember the bunny man saying that we looked like twins.” He looked into Sam’s eyes. “You think maybe he was Scooby?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Sam said. “I was hoping you could tell us. Do you remember someone named Scooby?”

  Kenny’s face twisted up in deep thought. “You know, I—I’m really not sure. There was another little boy, I know that, but I really can’t remember his name. It seemed like it started with an S, though. I know I was a big Scooby Doo fan back when I was little, maybe that’s where I came up with the name.”

  Sam and Denny looked at one another, and then Sam turned back to Kenny. “Could his name have been Scott? Or Scotty, maybe?”

  Kenny’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “That—that does have a familiar ring to it. I wish I could say for sure, but I’d be lying, I’m afraid.” He looked closely at Sam. “Why? Was that one of the kids who went missing?”

  “Yes,” Sam said. “His name was Scotty Beck, and his father is a friend of mine.”

  Kenny closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “The name sounds familiar,” he said, “but that’s all I can say.”

  Sam let out a sigh. “I
appreciate it, Kenny. Listen, if I come up with more questions, could I give you a call?”

  Kenny nodded again. “Sure.” He leaned over to the coffee table and picked up a piece of paper, then took a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down his number. He passed it to Sam, and then Sam and Denny got up to leave.

  Kenny also stood. “Do me a favor, will you? Tell Eric I said hi. If he wants to talk, you can give him my number.”

  Sam smiled. “I’m sure he’ll want to.”

  TEN

  When they got back to the station, only Eric and Summer were still at the table, struggling through the last remaining straggling files. There were only three left, and they were holding two of them in their hands.

  “Where is everybody else?” Sam asked.

  “Break room,” Eric said. “And no, I haven’t had any more coffee.” He added this with a bitter tone in his voice.

  Sam managed to suppress the grin that wanted to break out across his face, then turned and walked into the break room. Steve, Walter, Jade and Darren were there, each of them holding a cup of coffee as they sat at the small table. Sam poured two cups and carried them back to the conference room, and he heard the rest of them get up to follow him.

  “Here you go,” Sam said, setting a cup in front of Eric. “I think you’re going to want this in a moment.”

  Eric stared at the cup for a moment, then raised his eyes to Sam. “I am?”

  Sam nodded. “Wait till everybody else is here, and I’ll explain.”

  The rest of them filed in and took their seats at the table. Steve was the first to look up at Sam.

  “Okay,” he said. “So what was the new lead all about?”

  "Eric," Sam said, “I’m afraid I made Denny tell me something that you had said to him in confidence. For what it’s worth, he tried not to give up your name, but I can be pretty persuasive. I’d like you to tell the rest of us how you knew to look under the cabinet for the key to the trap door padlock.”

  Eric looked at Denny for a moment, then let out a sigh. “I read a story once, and it had an almost identical scenario. Trap door hidden under the kitchen range, the key was hidden under a false floor in the cabinet beside it. When we saw the trap door there, it all just sort of came back to me and I just had to look.”

  Jade nodded. “I thought there was something fishy about that,” she said. “So who wrote the story?”

  Eric grimaced. “It was a guy I knew through the Internet,” he said. “His name is Kenny Givens, and the funny thing is that he lived on the same street that Jensen’s house is on. Seeing that trap door and finding the key made me think of him again, but then when Indie was talking about kids who had been kidnapped, she mentioned his name. That’s when I got really shook up, I guess.”

  Sam nodded. “I can see why that would shake you up,” he said. “Well, I had Indie look at the families of all those kids, and we managed to track down Kenny’s dad. He told us where to find Kenny, and Denny and I have just come from talking to him.” He grinned. “He says to tell you hello, and I got his number if you want to give him a call sometime.”

  “Seriously?” Eric asked, his eyes wide. “That would be awesome. How’s he doing?”

  Sam chuckled. “He’s doing pretty well, actually. He’s still hacking, but he uses it to accomplish some good in the world. I think you’d be proud of him.”

  Eric grinned, and Sam turned to the rest of them. “What this means for us is that we now have reason to believe that it was Martin Jensen who abducted Kenny when he was a child. He was very likely kept in the same cellar where the remains were recovered today. However, there is another little twist in the story, and we’re not entirely sure what to make of it.”

  He turned to Steve. “Steve, Kenny said there was another boy who was brought into the cellar while he was there. There’s a possibility that other boy was your son, Scotty. Kenny can’t remember the name for sure, but he says that name does sound familiar.”

  Steve stared at him. “Does he know what happened…”

  Sam shook his head. “All he knows is that the other boy was gone after a while, and he was still there. It was not long after that when Jensen put him in a big box and dropped him off in front of his old house. His father happened to drive by and saw Kenny sitting on the front steps. That’s how he came to be rescued.”

  Steve dropped his eyes to the table. “So, the son of a bitch probably killed my son, but let the other boy go?” He shook his head. “Almost makes me wish I did kill him.”

  “I think we can all understand that, Steve,” Sam said. “Unfortunately, this doesn’t give us any more information on who did kill him. It’s getting late, and I’m inclined to say we need to head home for the night. With any luck, we may have DNA results back on those remains tomorrow sometime.”

  “Yeah,” Steve said. “Part of me is dreading it, and part of me wants them to hurry up. I just want to know whether that was Scotty or not.” There was a sadness in his voice that went beyond grief, but Sam decided not to comment on it.

  “Okay, then,” Sam said. “Let’s pack it up and head for home. We’ll meet up at the office tomorrow at eight a.m., and go from there.”

  No one had any objections, so they all got up and headed out the door, climbed back into the SUVs they had arrived in and started back toward Denver.

  * * *

  “I’m stuffed,” Kim said as she followed Indie into the living room. “Why did you let me eat so much?”

  “Hey, I just put the pizza on the table,” Indie said. “You’re the one who put it on your plate. Not my fault if you eat too much.”

  “I know, I’m just mad at myself. I think that’s the first time in my life I ever ate four whole slices of pizza in one sitting.”

  The two of them joined Kenzie in the living room, where the little girl was scanning through the movies on Hulu. She turned around as her mother and grandmother entered and smiled.

  “What you want to watch?” she asked.

  “You can pick,” Indie said. “Something funny, okay?”

  Kenzie chose a movie while Indie took care of Bo’s diaper and got him settled into his playpen. The little boy looked up at her accusingly and said, “Daddy!”

  “Daddy is working,” Indie said, but then her ears perked up at the sound of an engine coming down the street. She took a couple of steps toward the front door and broke into a smile when she saw the headlights of the Mustang swing into the driveway. “I stand corrected,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Bo. “Daddy’s home.”

  Bo gave her a huge smile. “Daddy!” he said again, while Kenzie ran to the door before her mother could get there. She yanked it open, and stood at the screen while Sam climbed out of the car and walked slowly up the walk and onto the porch.

  “Hi, there,” he said, grinning. “Got room for an old man to come in for the night?”

  “You bet,” Kenzie said, swinging the screen door open.

  Sam stepped inside and accepted a hug from his daughter, a kiss from his wife and then picked up his son from the playpen and got another of each.

  “Wow,” he said, “if I’m going to get a welcome like that, I need to be gone more often.”

  “I thought you were going to be gone overnight,” Indie said. “What brings you home so early?”

  “Well, do you want the official story, or would you rather have the truth?”

  Indie’s eyes narrowed. “I want the truth, of course,” she said. “What’s going on, Sam?”

  “Well,” Sam said, sitting down in his recliner with Bo on his lap, “this is turning into something a lot more personal than we expected. We are almost certain that Jensen is the one who abducted Steve’s son, and it’s even possible that the remains we found will turn out to be his. However, there’s another possibility that I’m considering and I’m afraid to even speak it out loud.”

  “And what is that?” Indie asked.

  Sam bit his lip for a moment, then picked up the notebook he had carried in
and handed it to her. “The guy who wrote the stories in that book is Kenny Givens,” he said. “I met him today, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear I was looking at a younger version of Steve. In one of those stories, he wrote about a little boy he called Scooby, who had been kidnapped and held in a dark cellar just like the one under Jensen’s house. He was there for some time, I guess, and then another little boy was brought in. He said that boy’s name was Kenny, and that he was scared and didn’t do very well. After a couple weeks, Kenny disappeared and Scooby didn’t want to forget him, so he changed his own name to Kenny.”

  Indie’s eyes narrowed. “He changed his name to Kenny?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’s what got me, too,” he said. “The guy writing the story is named Kenny, and sounds like he’s talking about himself in the third person this way? Well, when I was talking to him today, I asked him about that story. He said there was another boy who was brought in while he was there, and it may have been Scott Beck. He said the name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t really remember.”

  Indie looked at him for a moment. “Scott Beck—Scooby? Are you thinking that Scooby was Kenny’s nickname for Scott?”

  Sam shook his head. “I’m not really sure what I’m thinking,” he said. “All I know is that Kenny said Jensen—I’m assuming for now that it was Jensen—made the comment that he and the other boy could pass for twins. What if Scooby was really Scott, but he was the first one there? If the other boy who came in was named Kenny, and Scooby changed his name so he wouldn’t forget…”

  Indie’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Then Kenny Givens might really be Scott Beck!”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Sam said. “I don’t want to get Steve’s hopes up unless there’s a real possibility that I’m right, you know what I mean?”