by Rebecca Rane
Kendra turned and went back to her Jeep. Somewhere along this stretch of sidewalk, Dakota had been snatched away, stuffed into a trunk.
She remembered the boney fingers that clawed at her. They might have been made of iron. She remembered the terror, all too well, of being captive.
And she was years older than little Dakota Buck had been, or Ethan Peltz, when her nightmare was made real.
Kendra walked a little quicker.
She felt eyes on her. She knew that was paranoia, but still, it felt like someone was watching her as she picked over the bones of this old story.
Maybe she was close to a breakthrough. Maybe Dakota was the link that could make it happen.
It had been a long day. So much had happened.
Kendra texted Shoop that they’d hash out the Dakota Buck interview in the morning.
Kendra headed home. Had she found a new piece of this puzzle? Or was it another unsolved horror with no answer?
Chapter 34
Kendra played the interview for Shoop. They then spent the morning researching, working, and checking everything that Dakota Buck had told them.
“Okay, here’s Dakota’s old neighborhood,” Kendra said as they stared at the map she’d placed on the whiteboard.
“Well, it’s not Sand Point, so that’s a hard connection to Ethan Peltz,” Shoop replied.
They both stared for a moment. A dot on the map marked where Dakota said he was taken. A dot two counties away marked where Ethan Peltz was abducted. Ethan’s house and Josh’s house also had little pins in them.
There was no discernable connection among any of them.
As Kendra stared at the map, it looked familiar somehow. It was the same feeling she had when she’d been on the street. It nagged at her.
“I’ve been staring at it too long. It’s starting to blur together,” she said.
“Same.”
Dakota Buck had been lured by a child.
Could that have been what happened to Ethan? Did a kid lure him? Another kid at Sand Point wouldn’t have been out of place. The place was made for kids.
There was no way to ask Ethan Peltz what he saw or if someone enticed him away from his family. And there was no way to connect Dakota to that disappearance. Except maybe now, they had another victim.
Maybe Ethan, like they’d suspected, wasn’t the only boy kidnapped in the time frame they were looking at.
By early afternoon, they had crafted an episode around Dakota Buck’s story. While it may not have solved Ethan’s disappearance, it would at least put out the possibility that Ethan’s kidnapping wasn’t isolated. That more than one little boy, with floppy hair, had vanished in the early 2000s in their neck of the woods.
Kendra took a sip of water, placed her script on the music stand, and recorded her voiceover for episode five.
Dakota Buck is Tip Number 544.
His story happens before Ethan’s disappearance, but still, he was a compelling lead for the sheriff who couldn’t eat, sleep, or stop looking for Ethan Peltz.
It didn’t take long for Sheriff Howard Meriwether to find the case of the little boy in Port Lawrence whose experience could shed light on the little boy snatched from Sand Point.
Here’s what they had, back in 2005, about a little boy named Dakota Buck.
He’d been missing for a week the year before, in 2004. His grandmother was worried. She knew there was something wrong, even though she wasn’t the custodial parent. She was sure he’d been kidnapped.
She called authorities. She’d given them a picture of her grandson.
One can’t help see the similarities in appearance. Dakota Buck had hair that dusted his eyebrows. He had light eyes.
At the urging of Buck’s grandmother, the Port Lawrence Police were about to plaster that picture on posters and pin them to telephone poles. Tape them to gas station windows.
But then, out of the blue, little Dakota Buck was found, wandering alone, across town. Days had gone by, but he was unharmed. Seemingly okay and safe.
When Sheriff Meriwether was searching for patterns, Dakota Buck’s story tripped his radar. He called the grandmother, who mercifully now had custody and got more information.
Her little grandson wasn’t kidnapped, like poor Ethan. No, her grandson admits he’d gotten lost. Taken the wrong bus and kept going.
It was a dead-end, thoroughly investigated, but a dead end.
Tip Number 544 sat in the files for the last fifteen years.
Until two days ago, when Dakota Buck called The Cold Trail.
Buck is an adult now, and he’s been listening to the story of Ethan Peltz.
Dakota Buck thinks his story might be connected to Ethan Peltz’s, somehow. At the very least, he now admits that he lied to authorities, to everyone, back then.
He says he was kidnapped. Snatched off the street.
It was a big lie to say he was lost but, given that he was five and threatened, it’s understandable.
“They told me if I ever said anything, my mom was going to be hurt or killed. So, I made up a story.”
Dakota Buck says he’s a victim of kidnapping.
Here’s the story of what happened to Dakota Buck, tip number 544 in the Ethan Peltz case.
This is The Cold Trail. I’m Kendra Dillon.
The episode was new ground for the case, they thought, or hoped.
“Do we have a huge new component in the case, or don’t we?” Shoop said and bit her lower lip.
“This isn’t like a murder, like Sister David. The motive isn’t money or jealousy or even rage,” Kendra mused.
“What is it?” Shoop asked, but the answer to that didn’t come from Kendra’s mouth. It came from the doorway to their office, and billionaire J.D. Atwell.
“It’s a sickness, a lust for children.”
Kendra’s gaze shot from the whiteboard and Shoop to the tall figure in the doorway.
“Yes, it’s about as sick as it gets,” Kendra replied.
“That was an amazing episode. I just listened. You were able to bring a new possible list of clues to the table with Dakota Buck,” Atwell said.
“Thank you. He came to us, so I’m not sure how much credit we can take,” Kendra responded.
“All of it, you can take all of it. Your podcast brought this cold case to light, and because of the heat you generated, you’re finding new clues,” Atwell said.
“Thank you. Um, we couldn’t do it without you.”
Kendra was bad at sucking up, but she imagined Art at her elbow. What would he say to their deep-pocketed superfan? Speaking of Art, where was he? How did Atwell get loose in the offices? Normally, Art would be at J.D. Atwell’s side.
Then, as if by magic, Art was there.
“Mr. Atwell, I didn’t know you were visiting today? Did I miss a meeting?”
Art was slightly flummoxed, which was an unnatural state for him. Kendra had to admit she found it a bit amusing.
“No, no. Relax, I was just in the neighborhood and decided to pay a visit to our star podcast team,” Atwell explained. It was like he owned them; though, maybe he did, with the amount he was paying.
“Ah, yes, did you hear the latest episode? These two knocked it out of the park. I’d be surprised if the Peltz case wasn’t reopened now,” Art enthused.
“Well, technically it was never closed because it wasn’t solved,” Shoop added, and Kendra looked at her with a zip it expression. It was best not to correct a station manager in front of the deep pockets. Shoop caught it and started to fumble. “But, for all intents and purposes, of course, it was closed until we, uh Josh, came along, ugh The Cold Trail came along.”
Shoop’s word salad was getting leafier by the second.
Kendra jumped in. “Mr. Atwell is right about motive. It’s not unique or particularly difficult to assess. Sicko is the motive, or sickos, thanks to what we learned about Dakota’s experiences. Which makes it more challenging,” Kendra explained.
“You need to discover
how the hunters zeroed in on their prey. Then you’ll have the answer,” Atwell suggested.
Kendra was uneasy about how he termed the children victims as prey, but he wasn’t wrong. Ethan Peltz, Dakota Buck, and maybe Josh Wagy had been hunted.
“You’re right.”
Kendra locked eyes with Atwell, and the corners of his mouth turned up, just a slight bit. It wasn’t exactly a smile. It was disconcerting. There wasn’t much to smile about in the pursuit of this story.
Kendra looked at the whiteboard and then back to Atwell.
“Shoop, let’s put the address of the charter school on the board,” Kendra said, thinking Atwell’s suggestion was right. Proximity and opportunity to snatching kids was as good a connection as any.
None of the pings on their whiteboard lately were Josh-related. They were all Ethan, and now Dakota, related. Josh, as a thread, was broken.
Shoop looked at her file of notes and then popped up over to the whiteboard. Kendra watched Shoop add a little red dot to their map of downtown Port Lawrence.
“No, that’s not right, that’s the corner I was on yesterday.”
“Wait, what?” Shoop said and looked at her records.
“Oh, sorry, right, the school’s five miles this way.” She adjusted her red dot.
Kendra stepped forward.
“What made you put it there?” Kendra asked Shoop, who held the file in her hand.
“Uh, I screwed up because a few of the early DBAs on Rising Wings had this Madison and 17th address on it. The school was over here.” Shoop tapped the board with her dry erase marker. “My mistake.”
Something clicked in Kendra’s head as Shoop talked.
The map they were looking at looked like the small one in Kyle and Gillian’s situation room.
“The body they found! Shoop, that’s where they found the body of that Toledo boy! At that building I walked by yesterday.”
“Holy crap.”
“It’s one block over from the playground Dakota was playing in.”
Kendra’s mind raced.
It was huge, hard to wrap her head around, but also right in front of her.
And so was their billionaire benefactor, still quietly watching them work. She needed him to exit so they could actually dig in, so she could call her sister, so they could figure out if any of this had something to do with Ethan Peltz.
This had to mean something. Didn’t it?
“Thank you for the visit and insight, Mr. Atwell. You’ve been a big help,” Kendra said, her tone clear. Atwell and Art got the hint and made their exit.
“Calling Gillian right now.”
Kendra speed-dialed Gillian. She rarely bothered her at work, so her sister picked up on the first ring.
There was no “hello, how are you” from either of them.
“The building where your Toledo boy was found, I think I have some weird connections to it in the story I’m covering.”
“How so?” Gillian asked.
Her sister was currently in Lucky, Ohio, interviewing family again. Trying to bring Brylon Coleman home.
“It was once the mailing address for Rising Wings Young Men’s Academy.”
“Okay, so we did know that, sort of. Before it was condemned, it served as office and factory space for a lot of businesses. The Academy was one of many.”
“Isn’t that suspicious? Josh went to Rising Wings, and then this kid I talked to, he was kidnapped near there, and now you have a body?”
“Well, wait though—was Josh a kidnap victim? For all we know, he’s just a person who erroneously believed he was a famous missing kid. We don’t know that he was kidnapped. That’s not exactly a good connection, and I have no idea who Dakota Buck is. How am I supposed to verify that story?”
Gillian’s analytical mind was throwing cold water on Kendra’s big breakthrough.
“The little boy’s body you found, the one from Toledo, that building is a block away from Dakota Buck’s abduction. Rising Wings was there, well sort of there, they got mail there. It’s something. It could be something.”
“Honey, it’s not. I don’t want to burst your bubble, but you’ve got one unverified story after another.”
“What?”
Kendra had thought she’d made a huge breakthrough with the obscure address, but now she started to see it through the eyes of an actual law enforcement officer who’d have to make a case.
“You’ve got two grown men, Josh, and now this Dakota, who, to be honest, all you absolutely know is that they both lied.”
Kendra’s bubble was now officially burst.
Josh either believed he was Ethan or lied about it and Dakota Buck admitted to lying about being abducted as a kid. Or worse, was lying now.
Rising Wings was connected to Josh. He did go there. And Rising Wings once used Madison Street as a mailing address.
Yes, that mailing address was now a crime scene. But a recent crime, not one from 2005.
The dots weren’t connected as neatly as she’d thought. Kendra’s excitement faded.
It was also accompanied with a fair bit of embarrassment that she’d called her sister with something that might be half-baked.
“It’s okay, it’s not terrible,” Gillian reassured her when Kendra stayed silent. “I see what you’re saying. It’s just, well, we still have no lead on Brylon Coleman, and I’m terrified about what that means.”
“No, you’re right, I get that. I just thought I had something.”
“Maybe more like a coincidence this time,” Gillian said, and Kendra realized her sister’s case was urgent while Kendra’s was not.
Ethan Peltz had likely died years and years ago. She couldn’t save him. Gillian had a chance to save Brylon.
“You’ll find him. I know you will, sis.”
“Thanks. And we’re both in the doghouse if we don’t have dinner with Dad next week.”
“I know, I feel awful for dodging this week. Don’t worry, I’ll make it next week no matter what and maybe even swing by this weekend. To make amends. You stay on your case,” Kendra said.
She knew her sister would be working night and day. And Kendra knew she could alleviate some pressure on Gillian by just handling their parents.
“Okay, talk to you later, bye.” They both said it at the same time, as they always did when they ended a phone call.
Kendra and Shoop spent the rest of the day deflated that the so-called break in the story had turned into a bust.
Chapter 35
A welcomed number popped up on Kendra’s phone.
“Good morning, Sheriff!”
“Good morning kiddo, how goes life in the Fridge Files?”
“You know, if that isn’t a great name for a podcast, I don’t know what is.”
“Ha, maybe my second career.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. The benefits suck, and you get all the drawbacks of police work.”
“Ha, well, I’ll just stick to my garden then. I have something for you.”
Kendra considered telling him about the vacant building and then remembered that, to Gillian, it was a farfetched theory. It would likely be the same for the sheriff.
“I could use anything right now; a tiny breadcrumb would seem like the main course at this point.”
“Well, I’ve got an alert set up on Your Family Tree. Margie might have told you I was the one who had her enter all her stuff in there, including her DNA.”
“Yep, she did.”
“Well, she let me stay logged in, or maybe never changed her log in, in case we ever got a ping to something that could lead us to Ethan.”
“Go on.”
“I got an alert this morning that Josh’s DNA is a match.”
Kendra’s hope that this could be a good call came crashing down. And she hadn’t even had a shower yet.
“Sheriff, you know that’s not correct. Josh isn’t related to Margie or anyone on her branches.”
“I know, but according to this email, Josh is relat
ed to Sherilyn Marie Inkster.”
“What?”
“He has a mother, a 99 percent match, to a lady whose current address is—and you didn’t hear it from me—Lincoln Park, Michigan.”
Kendra had pinned all her hopes so strongly on a DNA match between Josh and Margie, that she’d totally ignored that there could be a DNA match out there for Josh, somewhere else.
Sherilyn Marie Inkster. And she wasn’t that far away. Lincoln Park was slightly more than an hour away from Port Lawrence, Ohio, which was perched close to the Michigan/Ohio state line.
“I didn’t hear it from you?”
“No, ya didn’t. I’m not supposed to be searching the criminal database these days, as a retiree.”
Criminal? Kendra thought, but then the Sheriff interjected with another question.
“Have you gotten any further connecting Josh to Ethan?”
Kendra hated to admit it. She hadn’t gotten further into Josh’s story.
She’d found a lie of omission. Tim had made her believe Josh went to Port Lawrence Public Schools, but in the end, that thread didn’t lead back to Ethan.
“I have new information, but not anything that tells me what happened to Ethan Peltz. Nothing that will make Margie’s life any better.”
“Look, I’ve started over a lot with this case, over the years. Maybe Josh has something to do with it. Maybe he doesn’t. But with this little DNA nugget, maybe you’ll eliminate him totally from the Ethan story. If Josh winds up just being a nutty sidebar, it means you can focus completely on Ethan.”
She feared that was exactly what was going to happen. They’d stirred up a can of worms. They’d upended Margie’s life, and Josh’s too, for that matter, but they were no closer to getting the police to take a look at Ethan’s case because, really, they had nothing.
“I can go right now. Text me the address.”
Kendra would go straight up to I-75 north instead of work. She’d tell Shoop on the way.
“Look, this is a not-great area. Sherilyn Marie Inkster has been in and out of prison for quite a few things, selling, using, solicitation, larceny.”
