Chapter Seven
Silver Falls State Park, Oregon’s largest state park, can be found in the middle of lush farmland about fifty miles from Portland and thirteen miles from Silverton, a city of ten thousand souls situated on the forty-fifth parallel near Salem, the state capital.
The park’s main attraction is the Canyon Trail, which runs through a notch in the land past ten waterfalls.
Joe and Marian Keller had spent the day picnicking in the park and wandering along the Canyon Trail. A little before dusk, they were driving back to their home in Silverton along a stretch of road bordered by farmland, when a man staggered out of a field and into the road.
“Watch out!” Marian screamed.
Joe swerved around the man and almost tipped into a ditch. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw that the man had collapsed to one knee on the shoulder.
“Stop the car!” Marian shouted.
Joe skidded to a stop. Then he put the car in reverse and drove backward.
When they were a few feet from the man, Joe parked, and the couple got out.
The man was lying on his side. He was wearing a white shirt, but it was torn in places and covered in dirt.
His pants were ripped at the knee, and there were bruises on his face.
Marian knelt next to the man. “Are you okay?” she asked.
The man stared at her. Joe had brought a bottle of water from the car. He handed it to the man, who took it in a shaking hand and brought it to his lips.
“What happened to you?” Marian asked.
Instead of answering the question, the man said, “I’m Tom Horan, a United States congressman, and I’ve been kidnapped.”
Joe Keller worked in a bank, and Marian Keller taught first grade.
They lived in a nice house, had plenty of friends, and were happily married, and they would have been hard-pressed to come up with anything that had happened to them that was as exciting as rescuing a kidnapped congressman.
So, they could be forgiven if the first thing they did after taking Thomas Horan to the hospital was to post about their fantastic experience on Facebook and every other social media platform they could think of.
Since Salem was a hop, skip, and jump from Silverton, the Statesman Journal had a reporter on the Kellers’ doorstep twenty minutes after someone on the paper read their first post. The newspaper scooped The New York Times, The Washington Post, CNN, Fox News, and every other news outlet in America.
As soon as Francine Horan was notified that her husband was in the hospital, she called Audrey Packer and Chad Remington.
“This should be interesting,” Audrey said as they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.
“I’ve been trying to figure out an explanation,” Chad said. “Horan gets a call and disappears. Then his car shows up near Silverton and he wanders out of a farmer’s field. Francine said that Silverton isn’t in the congressman’s district, and they don’t know anyone who lives there.”
“Silverton is near the state capital,” Audrey said.
“And?”
Audrey shrugged. “That’s where you find politicians.”
The detectives got out of the car and walked toward the entrance to the hospital.
Vans with the logos of several television stations were parked in front of the hospital, and reporters and cameramen were milling around outside.
The detectives pushed their way through the crowd. One of the reporters recognized them.
“Are you here to see the congressman?” she shouted.
Packer and Remington ignored the question and walked into the lobby.
When the detectives walked out of the elevator, Francine was standing outside Horan’s room talking to the doctor who was in charge of her husband’s case.
“How is he doing?” Remington asked the doctor after the introductions had been made.
“Mr. Horan was dehydrated. He told me that he hadn’t eaten anything for several days. He had bruises and cuts, but the cuts were superficial. His only serious injury was a blow to the head that may have left him concussed.”
“Any idea what caused that wound?” Chad asked.
“I asked him, but he says that he doesn’t remember. I’d guess some kind of blunt instrument.”
“So, he’ll be okay?” Packer asked.
“Physically, he should be fine.” The doctor turned to Francine. “You may want to talk to your husband about seeing a therapist. He’s depressed and shaken up from whatever it was he went through.”
“Didn’t he say?” Packer asked.
“He refuses to talk about it,” Francine answered.
“Can we speak to Mr. Horan?” Remington asked the doctor.
“I don’t see why not.”
Remington turned to Francine. “We’d like to talk to him alone, if you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s fine. Go ahead.”
The detectives entered Horan’s room and introduced themselves.
“How are you feeling, Congressman?” Remington asked after he and Audrey were seated next to Horan’s hospital bed.
“Much better.”
“So, Congressman,” Audrey asked, getting right to the point, “who kidnapped you?”
“I’d rather not say.”
Remington frowned. “Does that mean that you know who kidnapped you, but you don’t want to tell us?”
Horan broke eye contact and looked down.
“If you know who did this…” Remington said.
Horan looked desperate. “If I tell you what happened, can you keep it confidential?”
“I’m really confused,” Packer said. “You’ve been kidnapped, assaulted, and starved. Why wouldn’t you want the people who did this arrested?”
“You wouldn’t be able to arrest them.”
“Your wife said that you got a call before you left the house. Did the person who called have anything to do with what happened?” Remington asked.
“No. Not a thing. It … it was something else.”
“Tell us who did this, and we’ll get them,” Packer said. “We can bring in the FBI if necessary.”
“The FBI won’t be able to help.”
“They’re experts at dealing with kidnappings.”
Horan looked desperate. “If I tell you what happened, you have to promise me that you’ll keep what I tell you confidential.”
Audrey and Chad looked at each other. Then Audrey nodded.
“Okay, we’ll keep what you tell us between us, unless you give us permission to act on the information,” Chad said. “So…?”
“You’ll think I’m insane.”
“We’re not into judging,” Audrey said.
“Do you know about the UFO hearings?” Horan asked.
“I read an account,” Packer said. “I didn’t watch them.”
“Then you know that I’m one of the biggest skeptics on the committee?”
Packer nodded.
Horan licked his lips. Then he took a deep breath. “It was aliens.”
“You mean, like immigrants?” Packer said.
Remington looked confused. “What was aliens?”
“Visitors from another planet. That’s who kidnapped me.”
Packer’s mouth opened, and she and Remington stared at Horan.
“I knew this would happen,” Horan said. “That’s why you can’t say a word. I have an election coming up. If word of this came out, I’d be crucified.”
“It would certainly cause a stir,” Remington agreed.
Horan looked at him. He was angry. “Don’t patronize me. Do you think this is easy for me?”
“I didn’t mean to show any disrespect, but you can see that what you’re saying is difficult to accept.”
Horan breathed out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry, but I’ve been through hell, and I knew how you’d react.”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened, so we can decide how to help you,” Packer said.
“Okay, I’ll tell you everything.” He took another breath. “I was exhausted from the hearing, the interviews after it, and the plane ride home. Francine—my wife—picked me up at the airport. When I got home, I remember getting a call.”
“Who called you?”
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember a lot of what happened. I do remember driving somewhere, but I’m not sure where.”
“Did you drive to Silverton?” Remington asked.
Horan looked confused. “Silverton? No. That’s miles from Portland. Why did you ask about Silverton?”
“It’s where your car was found and near where you were found by the Kellers.”
“I … I don’t know how my car got there or how I got into that farmer’s field, but I can guess.”
“Sorry I interrupted you,” Remington said. “Go on.”
“I do remember being alone on a road when I saw these lights in the sky. I thought it was a helicopter, because it hovered over me. That’s when my car stopped dead. All the lights on the dashboard and the headlights went out. The radio stopped working.
“I was confused. I didn’t know what was happening.
I got out of the car and walked around to the hood.
I’d only taken a few steps when this beam of light came down from the craft and enveloped me.
The next thing I knew, I was rising upward.
Then I blacked out. When I came to, I was lying on a table and these …
these things were examining me. I tried to move and speak, but I couldn’t.
“I was spacy during the exam as if I’d been given some drug that made me sleepy.
That’s why my memory of what the aliens looked like is hazy.
The best I can say is that they were huge and pale.
They had two legs and two arms. They probed me, took skin and blood samples, and the next thing I knew, I was lying in this farmer’s field.
My clothes were back on, but they were ripped and dirty from lying on soil.
I staggered to my feet. I was still feeling loopy.
When I got my wits about me, I walked through the field until I found the road and that nice couple found me and brought me here. ”
Packer stared at Horan.
“You’ve certainly given us something to think about,” Remington said, because he couldn’t think of anything else he could say that wouldn’t alienate—no pun intended—Thomas Horan.
“What do you think?” Remington asked Packer when they were walking to their car.
“I think we should put out an APB on a flying saucer and get arrest warrants for one or more little green men.”
“Large, pale men,” Remington said.
“My bad.”
“I’ve read several stories by people who claim to have been abducted by aliens,” Remington said. “Horan probably read them too when he was preparing for the hearing. His account echoes a lot of them.”
“So, you think he’s lying?” Packer asked.
“Or he was using a hallucinogen and had a really bad trip. If he’s telling a good old-fashioned lie, the question is, why is he lying?”
“And why did he make up a story that would hold him up to ridicule? He could have just said he was carjacked.”
“There is another possibility,” Remington said.
“Don’t go there.”
“What if it’s true? What if he was abducted by aliens?”
Packer shook her head. “This isn’t The X-Files, Chad. This is the real world, not a TV show. So, I’m calling bullshit.”
Remington sighed. “You’re right. What do you want to do?”
“If he continues to stick to this ridiculous story, we can’t do anything. He disappeared. Then he reappeared. I’d say our job was done.”