CHAPTER 45 - Cedar Creek, Nevada Thursday, August 1, 2024

CHAPTER 45

Cedar Creek, Nevada Thursday, August 1, 2024

MARGOT PACED THE HOTEL ROOM AND CONTINUED TO GNAW AT her thumbnail. It was a bloody mess by the time she finally heard a knock at the door. She hurried across the room, checked the peephole, and saw Mr. Menendez standing in the hallway. He wore a suit like he had all the other times he’d shown up out of the blue, either at her apartment or at whatever restaurant she was employed. It had taken him only fifteen minutes to get to the Cedar Creek Inn, and Margot tried to figure out why he, too, was in Cedar Creek. She didn’t bother asking if he lived there, if he’d followed her there, or if he was in Cedar Creek—like Margot—because the story of baby Charlotte’s return was all over the news.

She opened the door as he walked into the room, wheeling a large suitcase behind.

“You alone?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Margot closed the door. “I didn’t know who else to call. We’re all over the news.”

“You did the right thing.”

“You’ve seen it, right? The baby Charlotte story?”

Mr. Menendez nodded. “I’ve seen it.”

“Wendy Downing? They know who I am. Or, at least they know the name I used.”

“Tell me how you got here,” Menendez said, tapping his index finger on the hotel room’s armoire. “To this town and in this hotel room.”

Margot blew out a lungful of air that ricocheted off her bottom lip and fluttered her bangs.

“You’re gonna be mad.”

“Just tell me, Margot.”

“The true crime podcast I follow had breaking news that baby Charlotte had resurfaced. I knew about the story from back in the nineties, so I was interested in the details. Then I heard that baby Charlotte was put up for adoption by a lady named Wendy Downing, and that the FBI was looking for her. That’s me, Mr. Menendez. That’s the name you had me use on the ID you made me.”

Margot waited for a response.

“Keep going.”

“Anyway, once I put two and two together, my conscience got the better of me. I asked a friend for help, and he figured out where Sloan Hastings was staying in Cedar Creek. So, I drove up from Reno to talk with her.”

“You spoke with Sloan Hastings?”

“Yeah. She’s the baby you and I put up for adoption, isn’t she?”

Menendez did not answer.

“I know she is. I ain’t stupid. It’s bothered me for thirty years what we done. You said she needed loving parents, and that’s what I kept telling myself over the years. But you never told me you took her from loving parents. You never told me you kidnapped her!”

Mr. Menendez looked across the room to the closed door. He held a finger to his lips to quiet Margot.

“What did you tell her, Margot?”

“Sloan?”

“Yes. What did you tell her?”

“I told her everything. I mean, everything I know, anyway.”

Margot saw Mr. Menendez close his eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that, Margot.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to wish I hadn’t. But I saw it on the news and had to get it off my chest.”

Margot paused before she asked her next question.

“Did you kidnap her, Mr. Menendez?”

No answer.

“’Cause now I got problems. They’re looking for Wendy Downing. Ain’t gonna find her ’cause she don’t exist. But they’re gonna find me, and I need help. They’re gonna think I kidnapped her, Mr. Menendez, and I need to know what to tell them. After this all occurred to me, all’s I could think to do was call you.”

“Where is Sloan Hastings now?”

“She went to get her friend. Said he was the sheriff. Stamos, I think she said his name was. She was gonna bring him here so I could tell him what I told her. I started thinking about it, and decided I wanted a lawyer with me before I talk to any sheriff.”

Menendez pulled the desk chair into the middle of the room and faced it toward the window.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Margot. Sit.”

Margot stood from the edge of the bed and sat in the chair as Mr. Menendez paced back and forth in front of the window. He stopped to stare out the window. Margot figured he was looking down at the creek while he drummed his fingers on the windowsill and figured out their next move. Eventually, he reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat and walked across the room, deep in thought, Margot believed.

“I think I know how to handle this,” Mr. Menendez said as he walked past her.

“How,” Margot asked, suddenly feeling strange sitting in a chair in the middle of the room.

Mr. Menendez leaned down from behind her and whispered in her ear.

“Do you feel better having gotten our secret off your chest?”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“Good. You’ll be able to rest in peace.”

His words barely registered before Margot felt a sharp jolt to her neck, as if a ring of fire had enclosed around her throat. She gasped but no air would enter her trachea. She reached for her neck, digging her fingers into her skin as she attempted to grab the cord cinched around her neck. She tried to twist out of the chair but the pressure from the garrote pulled her backward and firmly set her shoulders against the backrest.

For thirty seconds she clawed at her neck. After another thirty, she thought to open her eyes. She stared at the sunlight pouring through the hotel window until her vision was taken over by a black, inky ring that encroached from the periphery, slowly constricting her world until everything disappeared.