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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.

“I’m Sloan Hastings. What do you need?”

Sloan saw what she thought were tears well in the woman’s eyes.

“I need to talk with you and tell you a few things.”

The woman’s southern accent reminded Sloan of home. It wasn’t Carolina twang, more Alabama drawl. But definitely different from the unrounded “awe’s” of Northern California and Nevada.

“Talk with me about what?”

“About what happened to you when you were a baby.”

A chill found Sloan’s shoulder blades and quickly funneled down her back.

“Are you one of those true crime junkies?”

The woman rocked her head back and forth, and then shrugged. “Yeah, but that ain’t why I’m here.”

“What do you know about what happened to me when I was a baby?”

“Probably not as much as I should, considering. But definitely somethin’.”

Sloan remained standing in the crook of the open car door, ready to drop back into the driver’s seat and tear out of the driveway if need be.

“How do you know anything about what happened to me?”

The tears that had been building on the woman’s lower lids finally spilled over and streamed down her cheeks.

“’Cause I was the woman who gave you up for adoption.”