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“We do. A greyhound named Stella and a Bichon named Poppy. We left them in the car.”
“Oh, you could have brought them in. We love dogs. We just never replaced Oscar,” Susan explained.
“Too painful,” Gerald added. “Just too damn painful.”
Brogan eyed the cake on the coffee table, then picked up a plate. “Trey and Oscar sound like they had a special bond.”
“Oh, they did. Both had their moments when they could be stubborn and moody,” Susan pointed out. “But for the most part, those two were inseparable. Our Terence—that was his given name, you know, Terence David Rescher—he wanted to be a veterinarian.”
“Named for my dad,” Gerald said, his voice laced with pride. “His grandfather nicknamed him Trey before we ever left the hospital. It stuck. From that time on, everybody called him Trey.”
Sympathizing, Brogan reached out to lay a hand on Susan’s arm. “This must be heartbreaking for both of you. The not-knowing what happened after all these years would drive me crazy.”
“More than a few times, it’s pushed us to the brink,” Susan confessed. “Gerald and I talked about going our separate ways, only to decide that we were better together. After all, what other person out there would understand the circumstances of our boy’s disappearance better than the two of us.”
“Do you have a plan yet?” Gerald asked. “I mean, approaching law enforcement will likely not get you anywhere unless you’re looking to get slapped down. The original detective in charge was a guy called Kenneth Rivkin. Rivkin wasn’t exactly a people person.”
“We only heard from Detective Rivkin a couple of times,” Susan admitted. “Two years went by without a word. Then, one day at work, a co-worker stopped by my desk to tell me that Rivkin’s supervisor had held a press conference that morning to announce their findings. They had determined that Trey was the likely killer. I was so upset I had to leave work. In fact, I put in for my vacation and took all my sick days to digest the news.”
“She took a three-month leave of absence,” Gerald added. “Blaming Trey for everything hit us hard. The accusations came out of the blue. Never in two years had Rivkin or his supervisor prepared us for news like that.”
Susan looked down at her hands. “I didn’t care if the county fired me. I was that disappointed in the investigation. My child would not have harmed a hamster, let alone murdered two strangers on his paper route.”
Gerald balled his fists and glared over at Lucien. “So, the question you should be asking right off is who benefited from killing the Dolworths. Somebody got something out of their deaths. My boy got the blame for something an adult did. I’ve never trusted the cops since.”
An antsy Lucien put his empty plate on the coffee table and stood up. “You’ve verified that in your mind, Trey was not the type of kid who would murder anyone. We thought as much. But we needed to hear you make the case. Now that you have, we’ll turn to other suspects. But to do that, we’ll need to dive into the victims’ backgrounds.”
“Susan and I have done some of that ourselves,” Gerald admitted. “On the outside looking in, the Dolworths seemed to be a perfect couple. But there were indications there was trouble in paradise.”
“Like what?” Lucien asked.
“Mack Dolworth might’ve been having an affair.”
Brogan frowned. “I don’t remember reading that in the police report.”
“The investigators didn’t think it had anything to do with the murders. I don’t know why they took that stance. Anyway, the wife had a shady brother,” Susan revealed. “Something to do with gambling debts and Las Vegas mobsters. His name is—”
“Chad Pollock?” Brogan offered.
Gerald shook his head. “No, not Chad. Chad’s the successful one down in Los Angeles. Matthew Pollock was the name I heard. It seems Matthew was quite a gambler, known to hang out in Las Vegas. Rumors say he got himself in trouble with the wrong people. And Matthew died just shy of the first anniversary of his sister and brother-in-law’s murder. That can’t be a coincidence.”
This was news to Lucien. “Funny how Chad didn’t mention a thing about his brother. How did Matthew die?”
“Somebody tossed him over the balcony penthouse from the eleventh floor of the Hard Rock Hotel, 2002, Memorial Day weekend. Some say mobsters took him out. Others say he might’ve taken his own life because of the gambling debts he’d racked up. But I don’t buy that. Matt Pollock was a high roller who ran with celebrities and bigwigs. Why would he kill himself with friends like that? When Matt died, his bank account showed a six-figure balance. In other words, he still had money from his sister’s estate. That’s pretty much all I know.”
Lucien tightened his jaw. “Yeah, Matt’s death seems fishy.”
“To put it mildly,” Brogan muttered before adding, “And not likely a coincidence. How did the coroner rule?”
“Undetermined death,” Gerald said, barely above a whisper. “Seems like there wasn’t enough proof one way or the other that Matt got dumped over the railing. Matt’s background might be a good place to start. I’m pretty sure Chad Pollock handled the Dolworths’ estate after the murders. It could be that Chad and Matt might’ve split the assets. They were the next of kin. That information should be easy enough to verify. It should be buried somewhere in public records by now.”
Lucien stuck his hands in his pockets and looked out the picture window onto the street. “Chad might’ve hired us, but that doesn’t mean he’ll escape scrutiny. Or Matt. Maybe both brothers planned to do away with their sister for the inheritance.”
“I’d like to believe that’s true,” Gerald uttered. “Although I wonder why he’d hire you both if he had anything to do with killing his sister.”
“Maybe it was a hit gone wrong,” Brogan proffered. “Maybe the killer was only meant to take out Mack and not Anna, certainly not their son, and certainly not the paperboy.”
Lucien scratched his chin and pivoted back to the parents. “It’s too early to speculate. All I know is that something horrible happened that morning, resulting in the death of two people and possibly two more. At the very least, two people vanished into thin air and are still missing. What happened to those kids? Who took them and why? What was the killer planning to do with the two kids? What did he do with Trey’s bicycle? Am I right that no one ever located the bike?”
