This has to be the car he took from Waylon.
He angled the tablet so that Croft could see, and her small nod indicated that she’d read and understood. “When was the car reported stolen, sir?” she asked.
“Almost thirty years ago.” Merle exhaled, his expression becoming pained. “My father had loaned it to DJ’s mother because she wanted a night on the town with her friends. She had DJ with her. Said she was taking him to a babysitter.”
“It was the last time we saw them,” Joni added soberly. “We figured whoever had taken them had stolen the car, too. That maybe they were carjacked. It was a valuable car even then.”
“It’s a ’69 Camaro,” Merle explained. “Mint condition.”
“A very hot car,” Tom said quietly. “Did you wonder where it had been?”
“Of course,” Merle said. “But whoever stole it took really good care of it. I’m grateful for that, at least.” He frowned, then sucked in a breath. “Wait. You asked about DJ the last time you were here. Are you saying that he had it?”
“No,” Tom said easily. “I’m not saying that at all.”
“Have you found DJ?” Joni asked. “Is that why you’re here?”
“No, ma’am,” Croft replied. “We haven’t found him. But he is why we’re here. We were wondering if you knew anywhere he might go.”
Both Joni and Merle shook their heads. “No,” Merle said warily. “We told you—we haven’t seen him since he was four years old. Why are you asking us this again?”
The couple joined hands, appearing anxious now.
Croft met their eyes squarely. “Would he stay at your other house?”
The couple glanced at each other in confusion. “You mean our house on Elvis Lane?” Joni asked. “Why would he? You’re scaring me, Agent Croft. What’s going on here?”
“He lived there once,” Croft pressed.
“When he was four years old!” Merle exclaimed. “The house stood empty for years after he and Charlene disappeared. My father went over there every day, sometimes multiple times a day, hoping that they’d magically come home, but they never did. He refused to rent the place to anyone else. For years.”
This was the opening Tom had been hoping for. “How many years, sir?”
Again Joni and Merle shared an anxious glance. “Maybe five years?” Joni said slowly.
“That’s about right,” Merle agreed. “Dad heard about this single mom and her two kids who needed a place to live. Margo had run from her husband, who was abusing her, and she needed a place to hide. Mom and Dad took her under their wing, you know? Her kids—twins—were only a few years older than DJ would have been. I think Mom and Dad kind of connected with the kids, so they let them stay.”
Bingo. The timelines matched. Pastor’s wife and kids had disappeared five years after DJ had arrived in Eden, according to Amos. Tom smiled at the couple, hoping to put them at ease, because Croft had them on high alert. “What were their names?”
Joni smiled back tentatively. “Will and Tracy Holly.”
“Nice kids,” Merle added, “but too quiet. Always scared, always looking over their shoulders. Margo wouldn’t leave the house for years. I remember Mom going to meetings with the kids’ teachers at the school. Mom and Dad were like the kids’ grandparents. Joni and I weren’t blessed, so . . .” He shrugged self-consciously.
“His folks adopted the kids,” Joni finished. “Not officially, of course.”
“And, as time passed, Mom and Dad lost hope that DJ would come home,” Merle said sadly.
“I’m sure the twins were a comfort to them,” Tom said. “How long did they live there?”
“Until Tracy graduated from college,” Joni answered. “Will left home when he was eighteen. Mom and Dad got postcards from him for a few years.”
Merle sighed. “Until he killed himself.”
Oh. Shit. “How terrible,” Tom murmured. “Your parents must have been devastated.”
Joni nodded unhappily. “They were. We all were. Margo . . . she was . . . well, I’m glad she still had Tracy. That girl held her together until Margo met her new husband.”
“She married again?” Tom asked, hoping he sounded casual.
Merle nodded. “She did. A good guy this time. An architect. Dad met him and approved.”
“Do you still see them?” Croft asked, also casually.
Joni shook her head. “No. Margo left her life here behind, and I can’t blame her. So many sad memories in that house, what with Will’s suicide and all. Last I heard, she lived in Modesto. We lost touch with Tracy, too, but Merle’s mom gets a postcard from her occasionally. Never from the same