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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?”
