by Rebecca Rane
“You got a list of clothes he was wearing, that kind of thing?”
“Well, clothes really aren’t that important,” Howard said.
“Why not?”
“Because if the abduction is planned, if this is something the perpetrator had in mind, they can change the clothes, from shorts to a dress, a dress to a baseball outfit, you get the idea. They’re smart that way. We try to get a handle on shoes, though; sometimes they don’t think to change the shoes. Plus, have you ever tried to put a shoe on a kid who’s not cooperating? It’s like threading a needle with a boiled spaghetti noodle.”
“What else do you remember?”
“There was just no trace. No other person had seen this kid get off that ride. It was a crowded park and poof! The kid was gone. It was pretty clear he was snatched, deliberately disappeared.”
“What were your impressions of the Peltz family?”
“The husband was calm, the wife wasn’t. That was a normal state of things. I never saw him lose it. But she, well, I saw her deteriorate.”
“Emotionally?”
“And physically. There isn’t much left of her now. This ate away at her, I’m sorry to say.”
“You set up camp at the park?”
“We did have a command center there for two days. The parents were at the resort. The resort was helpful at first, but you can imagine the P.R. Fun for the whole family, if you can ignore the fact that maybe one of your family members might get snatched.”
“What were the initial days like?”
“Frustrating. It’s never not been frustrating, this case.”
“Did you have theories, leads?”
“You see that file cabinet?” Howard pointed to the cabinet where he’d retrieved the single file. Kendra looked and then nodded yes. “It’s all Ethan Peltz. I have made two copies of every single item related to the investigation, every lead I could come up with, track, debunk. My wife says the case was my other woman, back in the heart of it.”
“You never closed it?” Kendra asked.
“Never closed it, never forgot the pain of that family, but in the end, never could make an arrest.”
Kendra paused respectfully for a moment.
“Did you have a person of interest? Suspects?”
“A few.”
“Sometimes, as you know, authorities know who did it. They just can’t prove it, legally or with forensics. Do you know who did it?”
Kendra let the question sit there. She watched as retired Sheriff Howard Meriwether took a breath and then exhaled.
“I don’t. I wish I did. I’m retired and unencumbered by the rules of the department. I’d be happy to go vigilante. Happy to dole out justice one way or another. But I don’t know who deserves it.”
“I’m not sure Olive would like that idea.”
“Eh, she likes Chuck Norris. She’d get over it,” Howard said, and there was no humor in his eyes. He was serious. Kendra believed this case was the one that haunted him. She didn’t know how he was going to react to her revelation. But it was time to lay it out there.
“This man walked into the offices of WPLE yesterday morning. He claims to be Ethan Peltz.” Kendra slid her phone across the desk and showed Howard a picture of Josh Wagy.
He fished a pair of readers out of his shirt pocket and studied the image.
“It could be,” he said calmly and returned the phone. “Or it could be a lunatic. You’re familiar with those, aren’t you, Kendra Dillon?”
“I am,” she said. Meriwether knew that she’d been on the other end of a missing child case.
“You know, your picture was in my office back in the day. You look a lot like my middle daughter. She’s a redhead, li’l bit like yourself. She has three sons now, three. They’re like a barrel of monkeys at that house.”
Kendra nodded. She’d heard this before. She looked like a lot of little sisters or daughters back then, when she’d gone missing. Maybe it connected people to her.
“Maybe that’s why Josh Wagy came to me. I am trying to learn his story, discover if it could be true.”
“Who abducted him then? Can he solve the mystery? I’d really like to know.”
There was a skeptical edge, maybe even a little bitterness in his voice. Maybe it was because Kendra had walked in and asserted that the case of his life had decided to solve itself.
“We talked about it. He doesn’t remember.”
“Convenient.”
“He was five.”
Howard softened a little at that comment.
“If he is Ethan Peltz, I’d say you have a whiz-bang story then. Does Margie know?”
“That’s the other reason I’m here. This man, who believes himself to be Ethan Peltz, wants me to prove it. And help figure out what happened to him, who snatched him away.”
“And you need me for what then? Seems like it’s in the bag.”
“I need you to have an open mind and tell Margie to as well.”
“I don’t want to be the cause of any more suffering for this family. I’ve done enough.”
“What do you mean? You tried to help them.”
“Nothing, other than I lied to her more than once when I told her we’d solve it and get her little boy.”
“Maybe we can. I just need you to vouch for me. Margie said if you say it’s alright to talk to me for the podcast, she will.”
“Hmm.” Howard looked surprised by that.
“Well?”
“What do you get out of it?”
“Well, the story, honestly. And maybe with what Ethan knows, a child kidnapper that has been loose in the world is finally caught. If this is Ethan, Margie will have a measure of peace. Finally.”
“If it’s not, the hell she’s been in only gets worse. I’ve done that enough.”
Kendra realized everyone connected to this case probably had a long, tortured relationship.
“You were doing your job.”
“Why should anyone trust you with this story?”
Kendra thought about the question.
“Chasing monsters has haunted you, this one in particular. I can see that.”
Kendra decided to reveal herself to Howard Meriwether in the hope that she could build trust between them. She needed his help to thaw this cold trail, to rake the dead leaves off it.
She clicked the stop button on her recording device. This wasn’t for the listener; it was for the retired lawman.
“I could never identify my abductor. Countless psychologists, police, FBI specialists, my parents, victims support groups, you name it, tried to work it through with me. Tried to get the bad guy.” Kendra held Howard’s gaze. “I tried and tried to give them something to catch the bad guy. But I don’t know him. I didn’t know him. He wore a mask. He ate Skittles. He was young, thin. That was it. It was never enough to go on. He evaporated. Like it was all a lie. No one ever said that, but they were so frustrated with me. I had to pretend I was okay and pretend I didn’t see how they blamed me for not knowing more.”
“You were a little girl, and if I remember correctly, you were hurt.”
Kendra put her hand to her wrist. The scars faded with each passing year. But they were there. She closed her eyes against the memory of her bones snapping.
“I was. Something about this Ethan or Josh guy struck a note of truth with me. I can’t say exactly what, but I understood him, and I want to help him. He wants to know what happened to him. He feels that weight, pressure, of not knowing. Maybe I can help him. Because I can’t help myself. Maybe we can give Margie back her son.” Or maybe not. That was what she didn’t say and what they both knew to be the more likely outcome.
She could do the story without the sheriff and without Margie, but it would be so much harder.
“Alright, I’ll give Margie the okay to talk to you if she wants to.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I did everything I could. If there’s a chance after all this time, well, I can’t stand in the way of that. Just be care
ful with Margie.”
“I will, I promise.”
“I’ll call her today,” Howard said.
Kendra was relieved. She needed allies to tell this story, and Howard Meriwether could be her biggest one.
“Thank you,” Kendra said.
“OLIVE!”
Kendra jumped. Howard’s soft voice had become a loud bark to the rest of his house. His sweet wife, Olive, appeared a hot second later. Her own voice was an equal-powered bark back at him.
“WHAT?”
“I’m going to need a few boxes!”
Olive came into the den with her hands on her hips.
“Why in the world do you think I have extra boxes?”
“Um, I’m a skilled investigator. I know your modus operandi.”
Olive raised her eyebrows at her husband.
“Fine, I saw the Amazon Prime bill. There have to be at least half a dozen boxes somewhere. Now, where are you hiding them? Lois Lane here is going to need ‘em.”
Kendra tilted her head in question.
“I told ya, I’ve got two copies of everything I ever did on that case. You can take one set.”
“I—that’s incredible. That will make my life so much easier.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Kendra tried not to salivate at the leg up that his help could give her on this story. It was the polar opposite of what she’d faced with her last cold case.
This was a lawman like her sister was, like Kyle Carver was, like most of them really were. She had no doubt what he’d seen in his decades-long career haunted him.
But he was one of the good guys.
She’d crossed paths with a bad apple last time around. The worst. But that was a fluke. It was the exception. She saw that in this lawman and his sassy wife.
Howard Meriwether wanted to put this case to bed for good, so it couldn’t haunt him anymore. He wanted to protect Margie Peltz too.
Instead of a slow drip of information, he had turned the spigot on full blast. He helped load three boxes bearing the Amazon swish arrow logo and filled with paperwork into the back of her Jeep.
“It might take you a while to go through all this, but if you have questions, you can always call me. Day or night.” He looked back at the house and reconsidered. “Well, try to do it before seven. The Mrs. gets annoyed when someone interrupts her beating me at Jeopardy.”
Kendra smiled and closed the hatch of her Jeep. There were three boxes ready for her and Shoop to dissect.
“Thank you, Sheriff, and thanks for vouching for me with Margie Peltz.”
“Yep, I’ll call her. Just promise me you’ll be careful with her.”
“I will. She’s fragile. I promise to handle with care,” Kendra reassured him.
“Truth be told, she shattered years ago, no fixing that, but well, don’t scatter the pieces that are left. I’m trusting you on that.”
“I understand.”
Kendra climbed into her Jeep, and Howard Meriwether stood out in the yard as she backed out of the driveway. He stood and watched her like a grandpa would do until her car was out of sight.
She knew the old sheriff blamed himself somehow, for Margie Peltz’s pain. But it wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of whoever grabbed her son in broad daylight.
Kendra hoped that The Cold Trail would lead to that monster.
She hoped that she could find answers for all the broken people she’d encountered already on this story.
Chapter 9
He watched the little dot on the map.
He knew exactly where she was today, all the way out to Erie County, quite a drive! He imagined her behind the wheel of her Jeep.
It had been so easy to put the tracker on her car that it almost made him want to warn her, well, how easy it had been to put the tracker on her car.
But he’d been out of town. Kendra Dillon wasn’t his only concern.
He watched the little blip, on the move again.
A quick search of the address revealed she’d visited Sheriff Howard Meriwether. Retired. He didn’t know what her current case was, but he had no doubt she’d solve it.
She was plucky. Spunky. Had moxie. All those diminutive words fit her.
He let himself think about stroking her shiny russet hair. The color of autumn. A prize, really, that color.
Erie County, quite a drive for her this morning. He pictured the glow of her dashboard. He knew her radio station presets. He knew there was a can of pepper spray in the glove and in her purse. There was a snow shovel in the back and an extra set of boots. She was Little Miss Prepared. He knew she cultivated that in herself, thanks to his catching her unprepared all those years ago.
It was another way he’d shaped her.
He put down his phone. He could lose the rest of the day on this pursuit. But there really was no reason to do so.
He’d put everything in place to keep Kendra where he wanted forever.
He’d see her soon. Her fine bones underneath her soft flesh.
His girl.
He could see her whenever he wanted. Really.
For now, it was enough to know exactly where she’d gone today. A friendly visit to the friendly Santa Claus of Sheriffs.
It was all so plucky. So spunky.
He smiled at the picture he’d conjured.
He had other work to do now, reluctantly. So he shifted his focus back to that.
Chapter 10
Kendra had what she hoped was the foundation of an entire season of The Cold Trail in the back of her Jeep. Howard Meriwether had gone far beyond what she imagined he would.
Her phone rang.
“Miss Dillon, hello, it’s Ethan Peltz. I wondered if you’d considered my story further.” The young man wasn’t much for small talk, which was fine. Neither was Kendra.
She’d interviewed Josh/Ethan. She’d been riveted by his story, and her boss had been fired up enough to make it their season.
She had held back, though, after the interview in her office. She’d cautioned him that it wasn’t as easy as he thought to put a cold case podcast together.
She’d put the brakes on him. Even though Art had slammed the accelerator to the floor full speed.
After talking with the sheriff, she hoped that maybe, just maybe, they could pull this off. It was time to update Josh. It was time to let him know she was in. She was going to try to solve his cold case.
“Well, I talked to the sheriff that investigated this case, originally.”
“Oh, wow, that’s, wow, I’d love to meet him,” Josh said.
Kendra was in the business of trust, and Howard Meriwether had trusted her. She’d protect that trust by protecting his retirement with Olive. She’d barged in on their life but wasn’t going to let Josh walk in there, and do that, not yet.
“Maybe later. Right now, let’s give him some space. He’s going to call, uh, Margie.”
“He knows where my mother is?”
Kendra didn’t try to slow Josh down. He wanted Margie Peltz to be his mother, which broke her heart a little. She wanted it to be true too.
Again, Kendra decided to hold off. The knowledge that this person could be Ethan Peltz would be like launching a hand grenade into the life of a fragile person like Margie. It could explode her life, even if the intent was good.
“We have a way to contact her. In fact, I talked to her, and she only agreed to move forward based on what the sheriff recommended. He’s going to reach out and see if she’s willing to proceed. If she is, I’ll talk to her, and we’ll go from there.”
“Can I have the number? Can I call her? I want to talk to her.”
Here’s where it was going to be dicey, where Kendra felt like she was tiptoeing through a minefield.
“We need to go slow; we want her to cooperate, not be scared or run from this. It’s a lot to process,” Kendra said.
“I want to be there,” Josh said. And it was understandable. He believed his mother was waiting for him. And maybe she was.
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“Let’s take it one step at a time,” Kendra cautioned. “The obvious answer to your real identity is a DNA test. If Mrs. Peltz cooperates, we can get that DNA test done.”
“What about Mr. Peltz?”
“I’m sorry to say, he passed away years ago. Margie Peltz will be the only way to get a DNA match for you, Josh.”
“I just want to see her face,” Josh said, and Kendra felt the longing in his voice. The need to connect.
“Let me talk to her first, and then we’ll take the next step.” She wanted to give Josh something good to hang on to.
“Does that mean you’re doing it?”
Kendra wished she had more time, she wanted to have more lined up before she committed, but the pressure was there. Art wanted this to be the season, now she had a jackpot of background that would have taken weeks otherwise to acquire, and there was Josh.
He was desperate and hopeful at the same time. He had trusted her with his future. And his truth, if they could prove it, could turn the trajectory of Margie Peltz’s life off the tragic and back to something, well, if not happy, then less agonizing than it had been.
Kendra bit the bullet.
“We’re going ahead. The case will be our focus for The Cold Trail,” she told Josh.
“Oh, thank you, thank you so much.”
“Now, I need you to hold tight, okay, give me a few days. We don’t want to put her through any more than she’s already been through, you know?”
“I get it.”
“If she’s your mom, you’re going to have the rest of your lives to catch up.”
“I can’t believe it. I mean, yes, wow. Thank you!”
“I’ll get in touch as soon as I have more,” Kendra said, and they ended the call.
Josh attended community college. He lived with his adopted father, according to the background he’d supplied. He was easy to get in touch with, and hopefully, he was satisfied that he had someone on his side.
The next call was to Shoop.
“I just told Josh we’re in for a penny, in for a pound.”
“Great,” Shoop said.
“I got a ton of good stuff from the sheriff. Can you touch base with Miles? I think we can tape the end of tomorrow.”