Walker Hanson had a headache.
It had been building ever since the incident at the television studio and had finally reached a climax. He actually felt like Zac was beating on his head with a pair of drumsticks.
The events of this morning had been too much for him to bear. He couldn’t get the vision out of his head. That crazed lunatic had actually held a gun to his son’s head. It had all started with those bizarre notes left at each hotel for the past three months. He was relieved that it was over now and that they could, for the most part, rest easy.
The Hanson tour was in full swing – starting in Oklahoma City and Tulsa last month. Time seemed to have flown since their last visit to Manchester. Diana had had the new baby, a girl they’d named Zoe, at the first part of the year and the Hanson frenzy still hadn’t died down. Walker had requested a couple of extra days in Manchester for the family to cool off a little. They were all relieved to have the break.
Their hotel room, however, was getting crowded. Mackenzie, Avery, and Jessica were running around screaming while Diana fed Zoe. Walker lay down on the bed wishing that the pain would go away.
“Another headache, honey?” Diana asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. This one’s pretty bad.”
They’d been coming a lot more frequently with all the stress of trying to get his family from this place to that. Sometimes he wondered if it was all worth it. Sure his kids were doing well but at what cost? The music business was a snakepit and this morning’s incident proved the dangers of their fame. He thanked God everyday that his kids had remained somewhat normal throughout the whole thing.
How do they do it? I’m beat and they just keep on going!
He was so proud of his boys. They had held up remarkably well under the tremendous pressure that had been thrust upon them. He especially admired their character through their most recent media obstacle. A new wave of Hanson bashing had hit since the announcement of their new album due to be released in early 1999. The MTV “Hanson blows” campaign hadn’t given up either. Even more “hate sites” were popping up on the Internet after a major rock band had made some “colorful” comments about Hanson at a recent awards show.
The boys seemed to take it all in stride – nothing like that seemed to bother them. No matter how many cruel things people said, they never wavered or faltered. They kept their heads held high and continued on for the sake of the people who did love them. Walker wondered if deep down inside it really did bother them – if maybe all the negativity did have an affect on them. He remembered an expression he’d heard as a kid: paper bleeds little. It meant that things can look great on paper but have the potential to screw up lives once they’ve been implemented.
Oh, dear Lord, did we do the right thing?
Had it really been wise to pursue this whole adventure? What kind of a father dragged his family around the world and allowed them to live inside an aquarium? And what was going to happen when all the hype wore off? Would he be spending the Hanson “fortune” on therapy for his three oldest sons?
I can’t deal with this right now!
It was doing nothing but making his headache worse. He’d worry about it when he felt a little better. Just as the three kids had quieted down and he’d almost drifted off to sleep, a voice broke the silence.
“Dad?”
Walker recognized the voice of his twelve-year-old son, Zac, Hanson’s drummer and youngest member.
“Zac, honey,” Diana began, “your father doesn’t feel well.”
“Oh, sorry,” Zac replied.
Walker raised his head. “That’s okay, son. What is it?”
“Well,” he replied. “It’s just that Tay’s not back yet.”
Taylor had gone outside a little earlier to go rollerblading in a nearby park. Walker had been against the idea after this morning’s excitement but it was only a block away and Taylor had really wanted to get out of the hotel. And Jason had gone with him. But Walker had specifically told him to be back by dark. He looked out the window in the darkness.
“Zac, are you sure?” he said, sitting up in bed.
“Yes, Dad. He’s not back yet.”
“That’s not like Taylor,” Diana said.
“No, it isn’t.” Walker ran his hands through his hair. “Honey, call the front desk and ask if they’ve seen him. Zac, you and Isaac walk around the hotel and see if you can find him.
Just then Walker’s cell phone rang.
“Oh, Lord,” he said. “What now?”
The number was only known by Hanson’s manager, Christopher Sabec, some of the execs at Mercury, Jason, and his three boys. Walker looked around for the phone and saw it on the desk. “Zac, would you answer that, please?”
“Sure, Dad.” Zac walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. “Hello? Dad, it’s for you.”
“Who is it, son?”
“I don’t know, they didn’t say. They asked for Walker Hanson.”
He took the phone from Zac and put it to his ear. “Hello? This is Walker Hanson.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
Music suddenly blared from the earpiece. It was a song from the kid’s album Middle of Nowhere called “Yearbook.” He recognized Taylor’s voice singing.
Where did he go? I wanna know. Where did he go? I wanna know.
“Who is this?”
“Walker Hanson?” a gruff voice asked.
“Yes?”
“I have your son, Mr. Hanson. And you’d better listen very carefully.”
Walker was silent for a moment and managed an uncomfortable smile. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“I assure you this is no joke!”
His face went white and a lump formed in his throat. “Who is this?”
Zac and Diana looked up.
“That’s not important right now,” the voice replied.
“I want to speak to my son!”
“Walker, honey,” Diana began, putting down the hotel phone, “what’s wrong?”
He heard a sound like the phone dropping and then some unintelligible words.
“Hello?”
“Dad?”
“Taylor! Are you okay, son?”
“I’m okay, Dad. He hasn’t hurt…”
The phone dropped again, followed by a short pause.
“Walker, for the love of God, what’s going on?” Diana pleaded.
He held his hand up.
“Mr. Hanson?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here!”
“I suggest you write this down because I won’t be repeating it.”
He grabbed a pen and an old envelope from the nightstand.
“Tomorrow night go to the Five Points rail station. Take the westbound train to the end of the line. There will be a car waiting in space number 435 – a red Hyundai. Take the Interstate west out to Thornton Rd, which is exit 12, and turn right. Go to the fifth light and turn left in Westfork Office Park. There will be a bus stop to your right as you pull in. Be there no later than 10 PM tomorrow night or you’ll be able to fit what’s left of your son in a shoebox. If I smell a cop, I’ll kill your son. Bring Zachary with you and your cellphone. “Don’t be late, Mr. Hanson.”
Walker heard a click. “Hello! Hello!” Realizing the man had hung up, Walker let the phone drop to the floor. He buried his head in his hands. “Oh, dear God.”
Diana gently handed Zoe to Zac and walked over to her husband. “Honey, what’s wrong? Where is Taylor?”
Walker couldn’t speak. He began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Walker?”
He looked up at his beautiful wife with tears streaming down his face. “They’ve got Taylor, Diana. They took our son.”
Darkness surrounded Taylor Hanson as he slowly opened his eyes. He was aware of only one thing: pain. The back of his head ached something awful and he tasted blood in his mouth. He was lying on his stomach on cold, grimy concrete. As he shifted to his side, the rope that bound his hands behind his back dug into his flesh.
The sting from the ropes took his breath away. “Whoa, bad idea, Taylor.”
He shivered in the freezing dampness, trying to warm himself by curling into a ball. At first Taylor thought it was the cold that was paralyzing him but finally decided that it was fear. No one, much less a fifteen-year-old boy, deserved to be this frightened. He thought that he would never know fear like he had earlier when the man had put the gun to his head but now he was thinking otherwise.
Something was moving on his arm. He squirmed back and forth trying to get it off. He had no idea what was sharing this dungeon with him and didn’t really have the desire to find out. All he wanted was to get out of this nightmare and back to his family. He wondered what they were doing now. Had they started to look for him yet? Would they ever find him? Was he going to die tied up in this grimy, creature-infested hellhole?
The visitor continued its trek up his arm. Tired of the rope burning a hole through his wrist, he gave up trying to shake it off. He just lay there in the darkness as a single tear fell down his cheek. Enveloped by the blackness, Taylor Hanson cried himself to sleep.
An hour had passed since the ominous phone call from the kidnapper and the Hanson’s hotel room had turned into Grand Central Station. Men in suits and maintenance uniforms busied themselves tapping phones and asking questions. They’d all agreed that a swarm of people in police garb would be too obvious. The last thing they wanted was for the media to get a hold of this.
The FBI had set up shop across the hall so as not to disrupt the Hanson’s routine any more than it already had been. Diana had insisted on this in consideration of her children, who had long since conked out in the adjoining room. Isaac and Zac stood silently to the side watching the commotion.
Everyone had taken Taylor’s disappearance differently. Diana had grown almost hysterical while Walker, although torn up on the inside, was maintaining his cool as best he could for the sake of the family. Isaac, on the other hand, was getting extremely antsy. He wondered why these people weren’t out looking for Taylor instead of attaching electronic “doo-hickies” to everything.
But Zac was the one that worried them the most. He’d already been shaken up by the attempt this morning. He’d been awfully quiet for most of the day up until the moment he’d informed them that Taylor was missing. Now, he just stood with a long look on his face.
A tall, African-American man in a blue suit approached Walker and offered a consoling smile. “Mr. Hanson?”
He nodded. “Yes?”
“I’m Inspector Doubleday with the FBI. I’ll need to ask you a few questions. You up to it?”
Walker sighed. “Yes, sir. Go ahead.”
“Could you tell me what your boy was wearing when you last saw him?”
“Taylor,” Isaac spouted angrily. “His name is Taylor.”
His father shot him a “warning” glance before turning back to the Inspector. “He had on a pair of black corduroys and a blue, short-sleeved, cotton pullover with a white, long-sleeved shirt underneath.”
“Do you have a recent photo of,” Doubleday shot Ike a glance, “Taylor?”
Isaac, not appreciating the “look” responded with a smirk. “Check your local newsstand, genius!”
“Clarke Isaac Hanson, that was uncalled for!” Diana said. “I’ll get you a picture from my purse, Inspector.”
Doubleday ignored Ike’s comment and went back to business. “Was Taylor alone, Mr. Hanson?”
“No – no way. After this morning’s incident at the television studio there was no way I was going to let him go out alone. He wanted to go rollerblading so we sent their bodyguard with him.”
“Bodyguard?”
“Yeah, the boys have a bodyguard. His name is Jason Browning.”
Doubleday looked up from his notes and raised an eyebrow. “Did you say Jason Browning?”
“Yes, Jason is the boy’s bodyguard.”
The Inspector sighed. “Mr. Hanson, we traced the call. It was made from another cellphone registered to a Jason Browning. Have you seen him?”
Walker looked stunned. “No, we haven’t seen him since he left with Taylor. We tried to call him but his phone was turned off.”
“Mr. Hanson, would Jason have any reason to want to hurt – “
Isaac stepped forward. “What the hell are you thinking, you moron! Jason would never do anything like that!”
Walker held his hand up to quiet his oldest son. “I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Isaac. We trust Jason explicitly.”
“I understand how you feel, Mr. Hanson, but until we locate him we can’t rule him out as a suspect.”
“That’s crazy!” Ike shouted. “You should be out there trying to find Taylor – not sitting on your ass asking stupid questions.”
“Isaac, that’s enough!” Walker shouted.
The eldest Hanson brother looked as if he’d been slapped in the face.
“Please excuse my son, Inspector – we’re all a little bit on edge.”
“That’s quite alright, I understand. Is there anyone else you might know who would want to harm Taylor?”
Walker thought for a moment. “Well, except for the guy this morning who’d been sending the notes, I can’t think of anyone. There’s a lot of people who don’t like the boy’s music but they’ve never threatened violence.”
Diana had returned with a picture of Taylor pulled from her wallet. “Inspector, do you think this has anything to do with what happened this morning?”
“That’s hard to say, Mrs. Hanson. My gut reaction is that we have ourselves a copycat. This guy apparently saw the report of what happened and decided to pick up where the other guy left off.”
“Inspector Doubleday?”
They were all surprised to hear from Zac.
“Yes?”
“Is Taylor gonna be okay?” The twelve-year-old who usually wore a smile so big it lit up his entire face, had tears coming down his cheeks.
Doubleday walked over and crouched down on one knee. “We’re going to make sure we do everything we can to make sure nothing bad happens to Taylor. Besides, my daughter has tickets to your show this weekend. I can’t disappoint her, can I?”
Zac offered a small smile and wiped his cheeks with his hands. “No, I guess not.”
The Inspector stood and looked at Walker. “Mr. Hanson, may I speak to you a second?”
They walked to the corner of the room away from Diana and the children.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” Doubleday said in a hushed tone. “This is a very serious situation. We’re going to do everything we can to get Taylor back but there is some risk involved here. Can you tell me exactly what this man said to you?”
Walker repeated the kidnapper’s instructions to the letter while the Inspector took notes.
“He didn’t issue any demands?”
“No, he just said for me and Zac to meet him at the bus stop tomorrow night.”
“I don’t know what he’s got on his mind but I’m surprised that he didn’t make any ransom demands.” He jotted a few more notes. “Mr. Hanson, we’re going to tail you tomorrow night. We’ll have someone on the train with you and someone to follow in an unmarked car. We can post agents all over that industrial park. That’s our best chance of catching this guy.”
Walker shook his head. “I want to play this one by the book, Inspector. He said we were to go alone.”
“I understand, Mr. Hanson, but the only way that we can protect you and your boy is to go along. We’ll stay in the shadows and only make a move if things get dicey.”
“I don’t like the idea of having a bunch of federal agents hanging around while this guy holds my son’s life in his hands.” Walker laughed nervously. “You’ll have to forgive me. This is our families first kidnapping.”
The Inspector smiled. “We’re going to get your boy back. Just have a little faith in us.”
Despite causing himself a great deal of pain, Taylor had managed to get himself upright. He’d developed a horrible cramp in his leg and shook it to work out the pain. He was still unable to see anything and the darkness was starting to get to him.
Taylor pulled his knees tight to his chest to combat the chill in the air. His stomach began growling – he hadn’t had any dinner. They had planned on ordering room service when he returned from rollerblading.
He stopped. That’s it! He’d been rollerblading in the park. Up to now he hadn’t been able to remember how he’d gotten here but the pictures were beginning to form in his mind. The park had been extremely crowded. He was zipping up and down the bike path on his blades trying desperately to push the events of the morning out of his head -- the faster he went the farther behind he left the horrible experience that had shaken him so badly. He would occasionally glance back to see if Jason was keeping up with him.
It was Isaac who had suggested that Jason get his own pair of rollerblades so he wouldn’t spend his time running after them. They’d tried it but Jason was never able to get the hang of it. He spent most of his time flat on his butt and now received constant torture about it from the Hanson brothers.
The whole time Taylor had noticed someone else following him – a rough looking character wearing “Blues Brothers” shades. He dismissed it as his imagination playing tricks on him and continued to look for Jason. The last time he looked back, Jason had been gone. Taylor had gone into a patch of trees, hidden from the rest of the park. Someone had come out of nowhere and conked him on the head.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps from somewhere above him. He felt his body tremble slightly – this time from fear instead of the cold.
“Forget it, Doubleday, you’re not going.”
Walker Hanson had reconsidered about letting the FBI tag along.
“Mr. Hanson, you’re making a huge mistake.”
“Well, it’s my mistake to make, Inspector, and it’s my son out there. The last thing I need is one of your boys to go for the glory and get one of us killed.”
Doubleday chuckled. “You’ve seen one too many movies.”
“Have I? Do Ruby Ridge or David Koresh ring a bell?”
“That was the ATF – we’re the FBI.”
“Whatever. You’re not coming.”
The Inspector sighed heavily and looked to Diana.
“Don’t look at me. I agree with my husband.”
They heard a knock at the door. Isaac walked over and opened it. “Jason?” he gasped.
Jason Browning stood in the hallway with blood running down his face. He stepped into the room looking directly at Walker. The look on his face was shear panic. He opened his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hanson. I’m so sorry.”
With that, Jason collapsed to the floor.
Chapter Three
Chapter One
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