by Rebecca Rane
“It’s just we lost a lot of time. Brylon’s mother is a meth addict. She didn’t even know he was missing until the next day,” Kyle added, relaying more details.
Kendra knew most people were in a frenzy. They were keeping an eye out and watching the latest news. While she’d been focused on her own missing boy. One that by most accounts now, they’d found.
“That’s terrible.”
“That’s typical. That’s why I don’t think he wandered off. Disposable kids are the ones most at risk for abduction or trafficking. This boy was disposable to his mother.”
“But not to you, and not to the town. That’s got to mean something,” Kendra reassured Kyle. They stopped walking.
“I really appreciate you listening. Especially in the middle of your own work dinner and with Art breathing down your neck.”
“Maybe I’m not as selfish as my ex thinks,” Kendra said and was surprised to think that maybe it was true.
“It’s not selfish to want to help the families of victims. It’s amazing,” Kyle said, and they locked eyes.
“Well, maybe we have that in common.”
Kyle reached out and took Kendra’s hand in his. He leaned in, and she tilted her head up, way up, as the man had about a foot of height on her.
Kyle Carver kissed her. His lips were warm in the cold air. She kissed back. It was soft, tentative, and exactly the amount of kiss that Kendra was ready for. She’d never been a natural when it came to men. Her divorce had further shaken her confidence or interest in romantic entanglements.
But here, with the twinkling lights in the still air of the winter night, Kyle Carver ignited a little flame of hope that maybe someday, she’d get that part of her life right. Maybe it was too soon to abandon all hope for ye who entered here. Kendra tried not to chuckle at the joke she’d thought of but didn’t say it out loud.
They separated, and the puffer coat she wore suddenly seemed like overkill. Kendra was warm.
“You’re a damn good kisser,” Kyle said, and Kendra knew she was now blushing from forehead to toes.
“I, uh, back ‘atcha Carver,” she replied.
“Thanks for listening. It’s good to talk to someone who understands,” Kyle said.
Kendra liked being the listener, instead of the one getting the lecture that she worked too hard. Or her favorite, that she needed to find balance.
She’d let Kyle vent a little and, in turn, dropped her own shield enough for a kiss that opened up… well, she didn’t know what it opened up.
“I’m glad to, and I think I owe you one or a million for how much you helped me with season two—oh, and saved my life.”
“To be fair, Shoop’s well-timed hot coffee gets equal billing for that rescue,” Kyle reminded her.
Kendra laughed at a memory that should have been terrifying. But instead, she was proud of how Shoop, Kyle, and she had come out of that scrape. Shoop had thrown a hot coffee at a murderer and had given them all time to turn the tables.
“A team effort then,” Kendra said.
They continued their stroll. He relieved the pressure of one kiss turning into more by taking her hand. Was this to let her know that they’d taken a step toward dating? A relationship? Kendra wasn’t sure, but it was nice to just walk, hand in hand.
“Okay, your turn. How’s season three going? I haven’t had to liberate secret files or expedite FOIA requests for you. Should I be worried you’ve found another law enforcement rookie to come to your aid?”
“No, not a rookie, a law enforcement retiree. Former Sheriff Howard Meriwether has handed us a gold mine of his case files, so no need to fight for the documents.”
“Howard Meriwether to the rescue,” Kyle said and lifted an eyebrow. Kendra sensed jealousy—well, maybe not jealousy, but enough interest from Kyle to let her know he was interested.
“Like I said, he’s retired, happily married, and thankfully, wanting to get to the truth instead of hiding it, like our last cold case.”
“Good, good, anything you want to run by me, fresh eyes and all that?”
“Hmm, well yeah, how is it possible for a kid to disappear without a trace?” Kendra asked rhetorically.
“It sounds like we’re both asking the same question right now,” Kyle mused.
“I have a lot to look through on the original investigation, and still so many questions for Josh, the kid that says he’s Ethan Peltz.”
“Do you believe he is?”
“I wasn’t sure, but he knew things that no one but Ethan and his mom would know. It was pretty convincing.”
“It seems like you have a happy ending at the very beginning. That’s a lot better than where you started for your first two seasons.”
Kendra nodded and admitted this was true. She wasn’t starting with a dead body in this case. She was starting with a man who, by all accounts, very well could be the answer to Margie Peltz’s prayers and Meriwether’s lifetime of futile searching.
“I think that’s a great way to look at it.” She just hoped that it was true.
“I’m very afraid I’ve got the opposite—”
Kyle stopped, dropped Kendra’s hand, and pulled out his phone. She waited as he looked at it.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, duty calls.”
“Brylon?” Kendra asked, hopefully.
“Could be a lead. They’re searching a Port Lawrence building, actually. I hate to do this to you.”
“No, no, go, this is urgent. I totally understand.”
Kyle and Kendra started walking to back to the parking structure and their waiting vehicles.
They’d met at the event, and Kendra was glad. Kyle would be able to get to work and not worry about getting Kendra home.
They picked up their pace. Kyle’s long legs made it necessary for Kendra to nearly run to keep up with his stride. She cursed her stupid high heels, which she normally never wore. For exactly this reason—she was terrible at walking in them, much less running.
“I’m sorry. You go, it’s these stupid shoes.”
“I can’t leave you alone, downtown, by yourself. They’d take away my chivalry card.”
“I think you need to go; I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“My Jeep’s on the first floor of the garage,” Kendra pointed out and clicked her key fob to prove her point. They heard a beep, even if they couldn’t see her vehicle yet.
“Come on, Dillon, I don’t need to have the image of you wandering around a parking garage at night in my brain along with everything else.”
With that, Kyle scooped up Kendra in his capable arms and carried her!
“Wait, whoa!” she said as Kyle made fast work of getting her to her Jeep door, where he promptly set her on her feet. She wasn’t one-hundred percent in love with the sensation of being carried. But she also didn’t want to hold Kyle up. His job was life or death.
Kyle leaned down and kissed her again; this time, there was more oomph in it and more haste.
Then, he opened her Jeep driver’s door and put his hand out toward the seat.
“Get in.”
Kendra did as Kyle ordered, mostly to humor him. Her younger self would have launched into a tirade about her capabilities. She decided to let it go and let Kyle get to work.
“Don’t get used to me taking orders. It never ends well,” Kendra warned Kyle.
“This isn’t you taking orders. This is me dealing with your short but very pretty legs as a major impediment to keeping Port Lawrence safe,” Kyle said.
“We’ll take it up later.”
“It was a good walk, Dillon, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Kendra said.
“Call you later?”
“Yep, sure, I’ll practice sprinting in heels skills in the meantime,” Kendra said.
“And Kendra, be careful, okay?”
“Will do.” Kendra closed the door and started her car. As big of a hurry as Kyle was in, she still felt his eyes on her as she pulled out of the par
king structure.
He was a good guy. Protective. He cared about his job.
And, as she’d come to find out, she didn’t mind kissing him. Not one little bit.
Kendra drove back to her condo, daydreaming for once about what the future might hold for her and Kyle instead of rehashing the nightmare of the cold case she was currently investigating.
And as Kyle said. Maybe she’d hit on a happy ending before they’d even begun.
Chapter 20
They had the day mapped out: research, deep dives, and planning for the episode they’d tape next week.
Which was all thrown out the window when Art came in, a surprising visitor in tow.
Without warning, there was a billionaire in their offices.
“Hello, Art, Mr. Atwell,” Kendra said and brushed down a lock of hair that had escaped her bun. It had probably gone from messy bun to disastrous since Shoop and she started their brainstorming session.
Shoop let out an audible gasp at their surprise VIP visit.
“Mr. Atwell is getting the grand tour, and uh, he has some concerns that we wanted to check in with you two about.”
“Oh, uh, sure. Concerns?” Kendra said.
“First, show me around.”
Atwell was thin, tall, and focused his eyes intensely on everything he looked at. It was like he was looking inside each object or person, deciphering how it was put together instead of just registering it as a chair, or a laptop, or two nervous podcasters.
“Well, this is our bullpen. We really work a lot from this whiteboard here,” Kendra said.
“You need a high tech upgrade, Art. Let me send a smart whiteboard to you,” Atwell said.
“Oh, no need. This is fine, works for us just great,” Kendra said.
Art shot her a look that clearly said if Mr. Atwell wants to invest in a hotsy-totsy new office upgrade, Kendra and Shoop’s job was to accept the gift graciously. Kendra continued on with the tour, which, since they had a total of two rooms, was now nearly complete.
“Shoop sits there and handles everything I throw at her. She’s a top-notch researcher and producer. It’s my voice you hear, but it's Shoop’s work that has made The Cold Trail successful,” Kendra said, and Shoop smiled at the compliment.
“Wonderful,” J.D. replied and nodded in acknowledgment. “And your office, let me see that?”
“Uh, sure.” Kendra put an arm out and guided J.D. Atwell to her office. While tiny, it was highly coveted in the WPLE building since it had a window. “This is it, my office.”
Kendra wasn’t sure why Atwell cared to see it. She imagined his office to be in some skyscraper with a glass desk and chrome accents. Or maybe there were tufted leather chairs and leather-bound books, with a marble floor? Kendra had no idea but figured there was no way that her office space would leave an impression on someone like J.D. Atwell.
“Ah, your family?” Atwell asked her as he perused the half a dozen photos she’d put on the credenza in the corner.
“Ah, yes, the ex-husband, my parents, my cat Swisshelm.” Kendra was sure she was now boring Atwell to death.
“Swisshelm, interesting name,” J.D. Atwell commented.
“Ah, yes, named after Jane Swisshelm. She was a pioneering female journalist.” Kendra bit her tongue and did her best not to ramble on about Jane Swisshelm. Like she normally did when asked about her beloved cat’s odd name.
“And later a nurse, during the Civil War, if I’m not mistaken,” Atwell added offhandedly. Kendra was floored.
“Yes, wow! I’ve never met anyone who had a clue who she was,” Kendra said.
“What a shame,” Atwell said. He looked at her, with that intensity. She found herself intrigued but also unsettled. “Onward, though to the purpose of my visit.”
Kendra and Atwell walked back out to the common area.
“Art, would you illuminate Kendra and, uh, Shoop.” Somehow nicknames sounded strange coming from Atwell’s mouth.
“So, here’s the thing. Your News 19 is about to do a huge expose on the disappearance of Ethan Peltz,” Art explained. Kendra’s heart was in her stomach all of a sudden. This was their story.
“That’s odd, but we’re way ahead of them. That’s the good news,” Kendra said.
“Not really, tonight, at six, they’re going to interview your Josh,” Art said.
Kendra’s jaw dropped; they had held on to Josh’s interview to air after the DNA came back. They were planning to unfurl it all in episode three, next week.
“That can’t be right. I’ll call him, ask him what’s up.”
“They’ve already done the interview. The excerpts are on their promotional materials,” Art said. “As you can imagine, Mr. Atwell is concerned that you’re being scooped.” Art was stern and seemed alarmed.
Cold case true crime podcasts didn’t compete with local news, except when they did. Serial Podcast and Up and Vanished had changed the game. It wasn’t old news; it was breaking news when Adnan Syed had a new hearing. It made headlines when Payne Lindsey found a murderer.
“I’ve paid for groundbreaking work, as you know,” Atwell stated.
Atwell’s money was the reason WPLE was afloat, according to Art. He paid a lot, and the cornerstone of his support was built on The Cold Trail. He wanted his name associated with a gold standard podcast, and they’d worked hard to make that a reality.
Cleary, having Josh on Your News 19 with the claim that he was Ethan Peltz would mean the television station would get the credit and not their podcast.
And Josh had already done the interview. Kendra tried not to curse in front of her boss and the big money guy. But she wanted to.
“How did they even know to push Josh for an interview?”
Kendra knew Connor Stinson. She knew that once he had the scent of a story, he was ruthless. All it would have taken was that little scent.
All of a sudden, Shoop dropped open her mouth, covered it with her hand, and then removed it enough to blurt, “Oh, darn, I had a conversation with Connor last night.”
Shoop stepped forward and appeared to be about to throw herself on a sword. Kendra didn’t want Art or Atwell to blame Shoop or, worse, fire anyone? Kendra’s mind leaped, and she started talking in an effort to defray any unwanted focus on Shoop or a mistake she might have made.
“We already have the interviews. That’s the good news,” Kendra said, without thinking about what she was committed to. She was under the gun and not going to let Shoop take the bullet.
Art glommed onto Kendra’s effort to mollify Atwell.
“Right, the whole interview, his reunion with his mother, all of it will be very powerful,” Art added, taking up where Kendra had left off.
Shoop’s eyes were wide.
“I didn’t realize you were about to come out with that on The Cold Trail,” Atwell seemed to stand down at that revelation. Was that all he wanted? A second ago, Kendra was sure he was about to pull his funding. He was calming down; they’d saved the situation.
“Yes, yes, I didn’t realize either, my mistake for not checking the recording schedule.” And Art was now blocking for them instead of accusing them of dropping the ball.
“Yep, we’re just polishing up the final soundbite or two now. The episode will be live, uh, midday,” Kendra blurted. Sensing that Atwell would not tolerate The Cold Trail getting scooped, Kendra promised that it wouldn’t.
“Well, then, we’ll get out of your way—and Art, let’s talk about that new studio set up that you’d mentioned last week.”
Atwell had come in, perhaps, to pull funding, and Kendra’s quick thinking had him doing the opposite, maybe bankrolling some big-ticket item Art had his eye on. But it was quick thinking that pushed The Cold Trail into a corner.
“Ladies, it was a pleasure seeing where you work. Shoop, wonderful meeting you.” Atwell turned and walked out into the hall.
When he was no longer intensely focused on Atwell, Art turned and looked at Kendra and Shoop.
�
��You two better get that episode up by noon, and it better deliver,” Art demanded under his breath and then scurried after Atwell.
“Uh, what? We only have half of that script ready. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have bragged to Connor about what we were up to,” Shoop said. “I just was annoyed he won that award, and I got petty about it.”
“I get it, and look, I’m pissed at Josh. He could have given us a heads up. Or said no,” Kendra said. “We’re working hard to help him, too.”
“Art wasn’t kidding. We need to turn this in record time.”
“Shoop, I used to file three stories a day, in between live shots, in the middle of a blizzard. I think we can write a podcast script before noon. Especially since we already have the interviews and everything we need for it.”
“I’ll schedule the studio time,” Shoop agreed.
Kendra had wanted to wait, to dole out the Ethan/Josh revelation slowly, but thanks to the Your News 19’s story and Art’s pressure, they’d have to go for it.
Luckily, after the most recent interview with Josh, more than ever, it looked like one of the most enduring missing children cases in their area was about to be solved.
They spent two hours refining the script. Shoop had flagged timecodes for the sound they’d need from the interviews with Josh. By 11:00 a.m., they were ready to tape.
It was a million times more rushed than she wanted to be, but Kendra felt it was a good episode. The raw material was too compelling for it not to be.
They didn’t have to do much other than get out of the way and let the sound tell the story.
Episode Three
“I am Ethan Peltz.”
That’s how I met Ethan Peltz. With the declaration that he was the boy who’d vanished. At that moment, it was like Elizabeth Smart walking in the door. Or Natalee Holloway.
It was miraculous but also hard to believe.
So, we got to work. Could this twenty-one-year-old man be the boy whose innocent eyes peered out of posters, begging us all, had we seen him?
There are a lot of things that Josh Wagy said and did to make us believe his claim. But we didn’t know the boy. We weren’t the ones who could tell if the man's eyes were the same eyes as the boy’s.