The Silent Child Boxset: A Collection of Riveting Kidnapping Mysteries

by Roger Hayden

  We went bowling. We played pool. We went to the movies, parties, and sometimes just hung out at Betsy’s house. I saw less of Nick over time. My own naive goal was to date Betsy. But the school year wasn’t going to last forever. I shyly asked Betsy one evening if she was single as we stood outside a McDonald’s with milkshakes in hand.

  “Who wants to know?” she asked with a suspicious tone.

  I said, “no one,” and dropped it from there.

  The rest of the group emerged from inside and we were off to play pool at Billiards. The more time I spent with the group, the more I began to see things. Betsy was a flirt with not only me, but with Cooper and Gordon as well.

  I had planned to ask her out on a date the next week or so, just the two of us. I had it all planned. I would jokingly bring up the senior prom and ask if she had a date. If she didn’t, I’d suggest us going together. The rest would be up to chance. My mind drifted into these realm of nonsensical ideas as we approached the pool hall on the right.

  Cooper then posed a question about my father’s factory.

  “Is your family making any real money on that place?” he asked outright.

  “Well… I don’t know,” I told him. “I’m still working there five days a week.”

  Cooper nodded and thought to himself, but I knew the conversation was far from over.

  “Who’s up for a pitcher once we get there?” Gordon belted out from the back seat. He looked older than his age and always seemed able to purchase alcohol with no problem

  Cooper ignored the question and continued. “I’m betting that the land your dad’s factory is on is worth more than anything you could make in plastics.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said with a shrug.

  Cooper continued. “You know, my dad has been trying to buy that property for some time now. He’s got big plans for the area.”

  I kept my eyes on the road as we neared the electric neon sign for Billiards.

  Cooper leaned closer, halfway onto Betsy, who seemed bored with the conversation. “Let me level with you here. You and I are both in the family business, right?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “That factory is a money pit. You’d be better off selling the land.”

  Betsy pushed him away, annoyed. “For what, Cooper? A shopping mall?”

  Gordon laughed along with Victoria and Liz.

  “God. You’re boring us back here!” Gordon announced.

  I kept my thoughts to myself as we pulled into the dirt lot and parked. The group piled out of the car and headed inside as Cooper waited. We walked together at his slow pace. He said that he considered us friends, and that he knew I was good guy.

  “We’re much alike, Landon,” he said. “Our parents pester us to become like them. To run the family business. What a joke.”

  I couldn’t think of any response, so I just listened.

  “That’s why we’ve got to stick together. Help each other out. Who knows? A few years from now, we might be sitting across each other in the board room.” He laughed as we neared the door.

  I stopped and turned to him. “What are you proposing?”

  “I want to see your factory. I’d love to see the condition it’s in and assess its real value. Maybe I can convince my dad to invest.”

  I shook my head immediately. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Cooper gripped my shoulder hard, undeterred. “Come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll grab some beers and have some fun.”

  “I can’t. My dad would kill me,” I said in a resistant tone.

  “Just think about it,” he said. He then leaned closer with a devilish smile. “Betsy would think that it’s super cool.”

  A silence passed between us as I turned around and glanced inside. Betsy stood at the window next to Liz drawing pool sticks.

  “Hey, man,” Cooper started. “I know this is all a little weird, but I think I should let you know something…”

  He paused and waited for my full attention as I turned back.

  “I know you like Betsy. We all do.” He paused with a laugh. “Hell, the only one who probably doesn’t know it is Betsy.”

  I looked at him with my face awash in confusion and then looked down, embarrassed. No one was to know. It was supposed to be a secret. He took a deep sigh. “My honest advice, man. Betsy’s a nice girl, but I wouldn’t waste your time. She doesn’t know what she wants.”

  I looked up after counting pebbles on the ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We need to look out for each other,” he said with conviction. “You see. Betsy and I… We have this on and off again thing. It’s weird.”

  I looked at him with feigned understanding, but his words made little sense. I could feel myself being slowly drained with a sickness tightening in my stomach.

  Cooper swiped his hands across the air. “Just to be clear. We’re not dating. I’m telling you this so you don’t get your hopes up. She’s slept with a lot of guys. Prefers older ones. College students. There’s even rumors that she had a thing Mr. Brown, the math teacher.”

  I knew Mr. Brown. He was at least forty damn years old. The thought was impossible. Sensing my distress and clammed up demeanor, Cooper squeezed my shoulder. “I just don’t think she looks at you like that.”

  I shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s okay. I don’t think of her that way either.” Though I didn’t mean any word of it.

  “Good then,” he said with a big smile. “Let’s go inside.” We walked together as he pointed to my chest. “Remember, I’m looking out for you.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said as we approached the door.

  We walked inside to the sound of rock music playing from the jukebox. There were two rows of pool tables with different groups of people around, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Each table was illuminated by a hanging lampshade of various colors. Cooper led me over to our table as Gordon approached, proudly displaying a pitcher of beer in hand with two glasses. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with Betsy. I felt cold and distant, betrayed even. Though I had no case.

  Betsy didn’t owe me anything. I had just misjudged her intent. That’s what I tried to tell myself. Inside, I couldn’t shake the shattering disappointment I felt. I had been diminished. I felt foolish and used. It was too much to contain. Betsy approached me with a pool cue in hand. Her smile faded upon seeing my blank stare into nothingness. I wondered what any of our phone conversations had meant in the first place.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Cooper left my side immediately and grabbed a cold mug from Gordon who promptly filled it up. I let out a faint, “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t let her know that I knew. What business of it was mine, anyway? I had to drop her before I got hurt again. No more pointless evening excursions with people who weren’t really my friends. I missed Nick and the way things were before. Betsy asked if I wanted to be on her team, and I muttered a brief, “sure.” She moved cautiously around the table as Victoria racked the billiard set. I knew that Betsy could sense that something was wrong. I had planned to never talk to her again, but that would be easier said than done.

  Between the Lines

  Sterling held the notebook closer and glanced down the white space below the last paragraph.

  “That’s it?” she asked aloud, astonished.

  She refused to believe that the Summerville murder spree was based on an unrequited high school crush. There had to be more to the story. Landon wanted his reasons to be known. Why else would he have insisted that she read about his past? The remaining pages in the notebook had been torn out.

  She glanced around the table for additional clues. Her own notes were nothing but a collection of names and places she had jotted down on a piece of paper. There was Mark, Melissa, Nick, Betsy, Cooper, Veronica, Liz, Gordon, and Matt. She had also written down Priceless Plastics, Summerville High, MC Hammer, Darkman, and Landon’s known birthday, August 6, 1974.

>   Sterling pressed the space bar on his laptop and was met with the log-in screen where the notification hint remained as “Notebook One.” She tried his parents’ names and was denied. She tried his best friend’s name, Landon’s birthday, and a series of other clues. Nothing worked. Frustrated, she slammed onto the table with her fist and backed away.

  Perhaps Landon had only meant to stall her with the promise of clues to come. She grabbed notebook number two and flipped through it. Its first few pages were of scientific formulas written from top to bottom. Next followed a series of rough pencil sketches, page after page of mutilated corpses. Disgusted, Sterling set the notebook aside and began to place the others in order.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she muttered, grabbing notebook number three again.

  As she opened it, an index card fell out. She paused and then took the card, holding it under the desk lamp. Its tiny bold ink lettering was addressed to her.

  Hello again, Not-Quite-Detective-Yet Sterling. You probably found my superficial high school story a waste of time. Here’s where I get to the point. Make sure that you read to the end. Best - Landon.

  She set the index card down and picked back up notebook number three.

  “Get to the point, asshole.”

  The first entry was dated December 1990. There had been a considerable leap in time from the last entry, but she knew that the date of the factory explosion was near. She hoped for some insight but also didn’t know if a single word could be trusted. His writings so far had been revealing and self-absorbed. She wondered how and when he would attempt to justify his actions. That part was certain to come, and Sterling couldn’t help being curious to find out.

  From the Journal of Landon Kearney:

  December 1990

  By the next school semester, calls from Betsy lessened and it became clear to me that I had been used. Cooper got his car back and the invites ended. It was a startling coincidence. Of course, Betsy’s intentions were pure, you see. She had only been trying to improve my social life. Somewhere, somehow, she had figured out that I liked her and I think she got spooked. At school, I had kept things amicable between. I never asked her about plans or why we stopped hanging out, or why she stopped calling, even when she would mention how we needed to get together again.

  “We should all go to Myrtle Beach next spring!” she had said one day in passing.

  “Sure,” I had said. “That would be great.” And so it went.

  It was around January that I was ready to move on, after a particularly melancholy Christmas break. My parents were fighting a lot, the factory was losing money, and several of our investments hadn’t turned up a profit.

  On the brighter side, Nick and I were talking again after our two-month hiatus. We buried the hatchet in late November and became friends again. He told me that he didn’t blame me for having “my head up my ass.” That was understandable. “Who could resist Betsy Wade?”

  We hung out a lot over the Christmas break. I even got some time off from the factory. Everything felt back to normal. A different semester awaited our return in the New Year, and this time Nick and I actually shared classes together. The two months with Betsy and her friends was an exhilarating experience that didn’t seem to add up, but I swore off any bitterness about it. Everything was for the best.

  I wanted to stop thinking about her, but she was never far from my mind. I admitted such to Nick one evening over magazines and comic books.

  “It’s strange how I can’t control it,” I said.

  Nick glanced up at his TV and grabbed a slice of pizza from a nearly empty box. It was Friday night and X-Files was on—one of our favorite shows. “Control what? All that masturbating?”

  He laughed as I tossed a comic book at him. “No, you jerk. I’m talking about Betsy. I know she doesn’t like me, so why is she still in my head?”

  Nick sighed with an eye roll. “Landon, it’s been months.”

  “I know, but I have these insane thoughts that drive me crazy.”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Like, how she’s going to come to her senses and go out with me in the end.”

  “That’s idiotic,” he said. We went on like that for a bit as he assured me that there was still time for both of us to find dates to the prom.

  “Have you?” I asked him.

  “That’s not the point,” he said. “That girl’s nothing but trouble. Not worth your time.”

  I nodded along, agreeable on the outset, but deeply conflicted inside. Despite my resistance, I couldn’t shake the ridiculous notion that there was a chance between us. She was the only girl I wanted to go to the prom with. That had to mean something.

  January 1991

  Christmas break was over before I knew it. Back at school, I stood in front of my open locker on a Monday morning with my new class schedule. The hallways were busy with students of all ages, clamoring to find their new classrooms. I closed my locker and turned around with my backpack on my shoulders. Astronomy was my first class of the morning. Room 116 B. I walked down the hall and felt a tug on the arm of my jacket. I turned, startled to see Betsy, pretty as ever, with her hair longer and tied back in a ponytail.

  “Hey, you!” she said, excited. Every ounce of resistance I had managed to build vanished in an instant.

  I emitted a weak “Hey” in return as she gave me a quick hug and asked about my Christmas break.

  “I had fun. How about you?” I said.

  “I visited family up north,” she said. I didn’t want our conversation to end, even though it was just pointless small talk. As she paused, I tried my best to keep it going.

  “So… what classes are you taking this semester?”

  She glanced at her schedule and sighed. “I’ve got dance first thing in the morning, and I just had breakfast. Then there’s America history, Civics, and ending the day with Math. Oh joy.”

  I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment that we didn’t share the same classes.

  “Well,” I said. “I’ve got to get to class.”

  She agreed and left with a passing comment on how we should hang out sometime. I took those words with a grain of salt and hurried off to class. I felt winded and anxious as I took a seat in the back. “Damn it all to hell,” I muttered, pulling a notebook out from my backpack. I leaned back in my chair when I noticed someone in my peripheral looking in my direction. I turned and saw Cooper Erickson sitting there right next to me. Of all the luck.

  “Hey, buddy. Long time no see,” he said with heightened enthusiasm.

  Mr. Delaney, our old, bald astronomy teacher, closed the door and told the class to quiet down. I nodded at Cooper and glanced back down into my notebook. I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at him. Knowing that he could have Betsy was infuriating. I had hoped to see neither one of them again.

  “Let’s talk after class,” he said quietly.

  The sad realization that the new semester would involve Cooper Erickson was dispiriting, to say the least. After a drab lecture from Mr. Delaney, class ended and I hurried out the door. But Cooper was like glue. I turned my head and saw him walking next to me with this big smile on his face.

  “What do you want?” I asked outright.

  “Ah, come on, man. You’re not still sore at us, are you?”

  “About what?” I asked. My curiousness wasn’t entirely disingenuous. I really wanted to hear what he had to say. An awkward moment followed as we crossed paths with Nick who had just walked out of the nearby restrooms, surprised to see who I was walking with. I gave him a quick knowing glance as Cooper rambled on endlessly.

  “We hadn’t heard from you. Betsy said you stopped calling her. I was just wondering what happened. Then I thought maybe it had to do with what I told you about me and Betsy, but let me tell you, it’s over between us. You can count your cards on that.” He finally stopped to take a breath as I turned down the next hall, trying to lose him.

  “Hey, listen,” he continued, with a
nudge to my arm. “Let’s start off with a clean slate, okay? There’s only four months left until we graduate. Water under the bridge.”

  I increased my speed but couldn’t lose him. “The prom’s in a couple of months, right? You might actually have a shot with Betsy. I can talk to her.”

  My shoes squeaked against the tile as I halted. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. I could feel my flushed face, the tinge of anger growing.

  Cooper held up his hands in a defensive posture. “It’s cool, man. Don’t get upset. Remember what I told you? We gotta look out for each other.”

  I shook my head. “Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

  He placed both hands on my shoulders and squeezed for no other reason than to remind me that he was physically dominate. “This is what’s going to happen. We’re going out to play pool this weekend and you’re coming with us. Got it?” He paused and waited for a response, but I could barely say a word with my anger rising. “You don’t even have to drive. What do you say?”

  “I think I should talk to Betsy first,” I said.

  Satisfied, Cooper released his grip with a smile. “Sure, man. Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later, alright?” He hurried off in the opposite direction as I stood in the middle of the hall, trying to understand what had just happened.

  February 1991

  What I thought was going to be a quiet rest of the school year took a different turn as Betsy and her friends pulled me back in. She started calling me again. Gordon, Victoria, Liz, and Cooper all said hi to me in the hallway and asked what I was up to. There seemed to be no end to it. By the second week of the new semester, I finally gave in and agreed to hang out.

  Wednesday morning during Astronomy class, Cooper threw out his first idea. “Let’s get together this Friday and do some stargazing.” Oddly enough, Betsy made the same suggestion on the phone the night before.

  “The weather is supposed to be beautiful this Friday,” she had said. “We should all lie underneath the stars and take it all in.” I saw no reason to object as I wasn’t being asked to drive anymore. “I’ve been thinking about you lately,” she added on the phone. “Do you know that?”