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CHAPTER 39
Cedar Creek, Nevada Thursday, August 1, 2024
MARGOT GRAY SAT IN THE CEDAR CREEK COFFEEHOUSE WITH A COPY of the Harrison County Post opened in front of her. She’d made the drive from Reno early that morning. Since Ryder Hillier had dropped her video detailing the breaking news about baby Charlotte’s return, pictures of Sloan Hastings had leaked. Of course, in typical Ryder Hillier fashion, she had created a “baby Charlotte” page on the Unsolved website and had pictures of Sloan there, comparing them to the age progression images that had popped up over the years guessing what Charlotte Margolis might look like as a child, teenager, and adult. But now they had the real thing, and pictures of Sloan were everywhere. The networks had gotten wind of the scoop and Sloan Hastings had gone mainstream. Overnight, newspapers across the country had picked up on baby Charlotte’s return and Sloan was front-page news.
Margot looked at the black and white photo of Sloan Hastings in the Harrison County Post and read the story. Sloan Hastings was a medical doctor—a pathologist—who was completing a forensic pathology fellowship in Raleigh, North Carolina, on her way to becoming a medical examiner. Despite the shitty cards she’d been dealt, Margot thought, the girl had done well for herself.
Margot took a sip of coffee and opened her laptop. She typed Sloan Hastings into the search engine and watched her screen fill with links. She clicked on an article from the New York Times, skimming the details until she came to another image of Sloan Hastings. She studied it for several minutes, and then looked at the other photos that had trickled onto the Internet—Sloan Hastings from her senior prom; Sloan Hastings from her college sorority; Sloan Hastings from her medical school graduation; and, the most recent, Sloan Hastings as a fellow at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in North Carolina.
By the time Margot finished her coffee, she was confident that she’d looked at enough photos of Sloan Hastings to recognize the woman if she saw her, which was the plan. Margot’s phone rang and she answered.
“Anything?”
“She’s renting a house in Cedar Creek.”
“Are you serious?”
Margot’s waitressing job had put her in front of an interesting cast of characters over the years. One of them, a regular at the diner, was Wiley Wagner, a middle-aged IT guy who knew more about computers than anyone Margot had ever met. They’d become friends over the years, and even more than friends every so often. Margot had asked Wiley for a favor—to use his computer skills to find Sloan Hastings.
“Yep,” Wiley said. “A Vrbo in Cedar Creek under Sloan Hastings. The rental agreement started on July twenty-sixth and goes all the way to August thirty-first.”
“You got an address?”
“Of course.”
Wiley ripped off the address and Margot scribbled it onto the edge of the newspaper.
“She’s all over the news,” Wiley said.
“No kidding. I’m reading an article about her as we speak.”
“Why are you so interested in her? Is it because of that podcast you’re obsessed with?”
“I owe you one, Wiley,” Margot said in lieu of an answer. “I’ll give you a coffee on the house when I’m back in Reno.”
“Gee, thanks. I was hoping for dinner and a movie.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Margot ended the call, packed up her laptop, and tore Sloan Hastings’s address off the corner of the Harrison County Post before tossing the paper in the garbage on her way out of the coffeehouse. She climbed into her ancient Mazda and twisted the key. The engine protested, turning over several times before finally roaring to life. She dropped the Mazda into gear and headed off to find the rental home where Sloan Hastings was staying.
CHAPTER 40
Cedar Creek, Nevada Thursday, August 1, 2024
SLOAN PASSED THE WELCOME TO CEDAR CREEK SIGN ON THE NORTH side of town, and followed the roundabouts until she crossed the Louis-Bullat Bridge. She turned down the side street, cautiously watching for reporters or news vans. She saw none. But as she made the final turn to her rental house, she saw an old Mazda parked in the driveway. As she approached the house she noticed a woman sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette.
Sloan considered turning around, but there was something about the woman that piqued her interest. She pulled her rental car into the driveway and parked next to the Mazda. When she did, the woman stood up. Sloan climbed from her car but did not shut the door. She kept the engine running in case she needed to make a fast retreat.
“Can I help you?” Sloan asked from the driveway.
“You Sloan Hastings?”
“Who’s asking?”
“My name’s Margot Gray.”
The woman stepped down from the front porch and walked to the driveway. She spoke to Sloan over the roof of the Mazda, which sat between the two women.
