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“Not for a minute.”
“So you think the autopsy was incorrect?”
“I think it was manipulated to show what those in power wanted it to show.”
“Who has the power to do that?”
“The Margolis family. Look, my grandfather was ninety-two years old when he died last year. He had spent nearly thirty years searching for answers about what happened to his son. He never found any. When the end was near and my grandfather knew he wouldn’t be able to keep looking, he told me about his suspicions and gave me everything he’d collected over the years about my father’s death. A lot of that information contains details about my father’s investigation into the missing Margolis family. Just before he passed, my grandfather made me promise to keep looking after he was gone. I’ve been rooting through the case for the last year, and the first clue that’s come along is news that baby Charlotte Margolis turned up alive and well in Raleigh, North Carolina.”
“So you came looking for me.”
“I did.”
Sloan squinted her eyes as a thought dawned on her. “Why drive?” she asked. “Why drive all the way from Nevada just to talk with me?”
“Because airline tickets leave a trail, and it’s important that no one knows I came to find you.”
“Who’d be interested?”
“The Margolis family. And none of them can learn that you and I have met.”
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.”
