CHAPTER 15 - Raleigh, North Carolina Friday, July 19, 2024

CHAPTER 15

Raleigh, North Carolina Friday, July 19, 2024

IN ADDITION TO INCINERATING MUCOUS MEMbrANES AND CAUSING endless rhinitis, Sloan decided an additional side effect of oleoresin capsicum, the active ingredient in pepper spray, was hunger. She and Eric headed to the pizza joint on the corner to continue their conversation, ignoring the sideways looks from the waitress who stared at their beet red faces and bloodshot eyes with a combination of fear and disgust. They promised they were neither dying nor contagious, and ordered a large pepperoni. Eric gulped water and refilled his glass from a pitcher the waitress left.

Even with a swollen right eye and bright red cheeks, Sloan noticed that Eric Stamos was a handsome man. She did the math according to the information he’d provided and knew that he was thirty-eight years old. His solid build and angled jaw made him look younger.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sloan asked.

Eric nodded as he crunched on an ice cube. The swelling to his right eye had plateaued, leaving a thin sliver that allowed partial vision.

“I’m getting there, just trying to rehydrate. You?”

“My eyes are starting to burn again, but I have no room to complain. Your right eye looks like it’s about to bleed.”

“I’ll be fine. No one ever died from pepper spray.” Eric took another sip of water. “It must’ve been a shock when your DNA profile came back.”

“I’m still trying to process it. You said you were nine years old when my birth parents and I disappeared?”

“Correct. And I still remember how big the story was back then.”

“Because your father was part of the investigation?”

“That was part of it, but also because the case was everywhere. You couldn’t check out at the grocery store without seeing baby Charlotte and her parents on the tabloid covers. And to know that the whole country was focused on our little town was crazy, even for a nine-year-old. But for sure, I had more of a front row seat because of my dad. When I was a kid I never really thought of my dad’s job as solving crimes as much as just making sure everyone in town felt safe. Then, during that summer, my father was faced with this huge, nationally known missing persons case. I was too young to comprehend what he was going through, but my grandfather has since filled me in on the details. He told me that my dad more than held his own during the investigation. Then, he died. Once my dad was gone, the state police took over.”

“I guess what I’m struggling to understand is why you came all the way to Raleigh to find me. As sheriff can’t you just request all the old case files and talk to the investigators who were involved? They’d have more information than me.”

“In any other part of the country, maybe. But not in Harrison County. It’s a tricky place to be sheriff.”

“Tricky how?”

“The Margolis family is powerful. They own everything and run most everything in the county. For decades they have managed to place family members in critical places. Not just on the boards of influential companies, but in prominent political positions as well. The District Attorney’s Office is fully under the control of the Margolis family. The chief prosecutor is a Margolis. One of the two Nevada senators is a Margolis. The head of the Nevada State Police is a Margolis. From local levels of government to some of the state’s highest positions, the family has people in place to help them control everything that happens in our little county. So, anytime my dad had to run an investigation that crossed paths with the Margolises, either directly or indirectly, he had to tread carefully. Just like I do today.”

“So the family runs everything, but they haven’t found a way to infiltrate the Sheriff’s Office yet?”

Eric smiled. “Not yet. If the Margolises want one of their own as sheriff, they’ll have to find a way to get their candidate elected. And, trust me, they’ve tried. Every four years the family spends millions backing a new candidate for sheriff, but it’s almost as though the folks of Cedar Creek and Harrison County know that the Margolis family is already too powerful, and the last thing the town needs is for the Margolis family to control local law enforcement. My dad was sheriff for nearly twenty years—reelected four times. And, like I said, my grandfather was sheriff before him. I’m on my second term.”

“Your dad is mentioned in some of the articles I’ve read about the disappearance of . . . my biological parents and me.”

Eric smiled. “Good ole Sandy Stamos. He’s been gone longer than I ever knew him. He was the quintessential small-town sheriff who everyone loved.”

“Then why would someone kill him?”

“My grandfather’s theory? He stumbled over evidence that pointed to the truth about what happened to you and your parents, and someone didn’t want that truth to come out.”

“Where did your grandfather’s theory come from?”

“My dad spoke with my grandfather about the case back then, asked for some advice. My dad was struggling to make sense of what he discovered. And my grandfather was convinced—absolutely one hundred percent convinced—that my dad discovered something about the night you and your parents disappeared, and that’s what got him killed. The timing was just too suspicious.”

“What did he discover?”

“Good question. I’m hoping you’ll help me answer it.”

“Me? I was an infant when all of this happened. I have no idea what happened to my birth parents. Or your father.”

“But you can help me figure it out. You’re actually the only one who can help.”

The waitress walked over and slid a large pepperoni pizza between them, along with plates and napkins.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“We’re good, thanks,” Eric said.

“You’ve lost me,” Sloan said once the waitress was gone. “How am I supposed to help you figure out what happened to your dad?”

Eric lifted a piece of pizza and took a bite. “News is sure to break that Charlotte Margolis has resurfaced nearly thirty years after she went missing. I’m sure the FBI will inform the family. When they do, the Margolis family will want to meet you. It will be the perfect opportunity to go to Cedar Creek.”

“To Nevada?”

“Yes.”

“To do what?”

“To work with me, secretly. No one can know we’re in contact with each other.”

“Work with you to do what?”

Eric moved his plate to the side and placed his elbows on the table so his face was closer to Sloan’s.

“You asked me why I can’t just go to the state police, request all the files, and start poking around. The reason is because it would get back to the Margolis family. And if I overtly start asking questions, the family will know I’m looking into my father’s death.”

“And that’s a bad thing? Why?”

“Someone inside the Margolis family knows what happened to my dad, and maybe even to you and your birth parents. According to my grandfather, my dad was convinced that another crime he was investigating was linked to your parents’ disappearance.”

“What other crime?”

“A hit-and-run accident that killed a local Cedar Creek resident.”

Sloan paused a moment as her mind retreated back to the articles that chronicled her and her parents’ disappearance. “I read something about that.”

Eric nodded. “I’ve looked into it, too, and it’s legit. My grandfather was old and suffering from dementia before he died. I wasn’t sure how much of what he was telling me about my dad was true, or just the ramblings of a dying man with dementia. But he was on to something. I went back through old cases that were still archived at the Harrison County Sheriff’s Office and learned that my dad had been investigating a hit-and-run accident that happened the summer you disappeared. According to my grandfather, my dad believed the case tied directly to the disappearance of you and your parents.”

“Have you looked into it?”

“Yes. No one was ever formally charged, and the case is still cold today. But when Annabelle and Preston Margolis disappeared, Annabelle was the main suspect in the case. And the guy she mowed down? He was a partner at the Margolis law firm. The case went cold after you and your parents went missing.”

Sloan sat back in her chair and tossed the piece of pizza she had been eating onto her plate.

“Someone inside the Margolis family knows what happened that summer,” Eric said. “With that hit-and-run case. With you and your parents. And with my dad. We have to find that person and convince them to talk.”

“Why don’t you find them and question them, or subpoena them?”

“This many years later? I wouldn’t know where to start. And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. The family has a code—as strong as the Kennedys, or maybe stronger. The family doesn’t talk to outsiders.”

Sloan raised her chin slightly, Eric’s plan finally dawning on her and the reason he had come across the country to find her. “But I won’t be an outsider.”

“Nope. You’re a Margolis pureblood. They’ll welcome you with open arms.”

Eric took a deep breath and Sloan knew this would be his final push.

“I’m asking you to go to Cedar Creek and reunite with the Margolis family. You’re the perfect Trojan horse. You’ll be able to infiltrate the family in ways no one else can.”

Sloan picked up the pizza and took a bite as she considered Eric Stamos’s plan.

“You looked into the hit-and-run case?” she finally asked.

“I did.”

“Let’s start there. Tell me about it.”