know,” says Rhyster. “And I advised her of why I was there and talked to her about the incident.”
Marina shook her head. She knew the Raneys’ daughter was missing, and she hadn’t seen her. Rhyster apologized for waking her and headed to his next destination, a four-minute drive away. He roused the Raneys and informed them of the suicide threat. Nancy and Mark verified that their daughter was still missing. The news both bewildered and shocked them. Did this mean Cari was still alive? If so, was she really threatening suicide? Had rescuers been sent to the wrong address as Cari lay dying? Or was this a cruel prank?
It had been thirteen months to the day since the Siena House hoax. The stalker often picked on Cari’s family on holidays, and was at it again on Sunday, May 11, Mother’s Day—another hard day for Nancy. She grieved for Cari every day, but this holiday rubbed salt in the wound. It was difficult for Maxwell to face this day without his mother, and difficult for Nancy to face it without her daughter. Watching her grandson suffer made the day all the harder for Nancy. The Mother’s Day greeting came via text from an unfamiliar number:
Happy Mother [sic] Day, Mom.
Maxwell, too, got a message. Though both he and Nancy were wary because of the many letdowns, it was particularly hurtful to receive a phony message on what should have been a day of celebration.
“How is Max?” the texter asked Nancy.
“Call me, and I’ll gladly tell you about him,” she replied. “This is not talking. I need to hear your voice.” As usual, no call came.
* * *
Spring of 2014 was eventful for some of the people in Liz’s life. In April, Garret suffered chest pains late one night. He called his mother, who rushed over to take him to the hospital. He was hospitalized for several days for the “cardiac event,” while doctors ran tests. When Liz didn’t visit, it angered his friends and family. She had asked if he wanted her to come, and he’d replied it was up to her. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t show up. If she possessed a nurturing side, he had never seen it.
Liz had zero empathy for living creatures, human or animal. Animal lovers will be relieved to read that the next trio of pets she adopted were brought to Garret’s home, and as of this writing, they are alive and well, and he’s vowed to always take care of them. Freedom, a German Shepherd mix, is black with a fluff of white on his chest and loves to ride in Garret’s truck. When Liz had lived at his place, he’d had to remind her to feed her pets, clean the cat box, and take the dogs outside. He’d noticed that most of the time she seemed annoyed by the animals and coldly shooed them away when they approached her.
She could not be counted on to take care of the animals or him if he ever got sick, but luckily, Garret was healthy. The chest pains had apparently been caused by a flu virus he’d been fighting. The health scare was the wake-up call he needed. Determined to get in shape, he began exercising and making healthier diet choices. He soon began to lose weight.
On May 1, Amy gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Mason. Though Amy’s relationship with Mason’s father would not last, she was thrilled to welcome her son. Calista and Trey, too, were excited about having a little brother.
In the autumn of 2014, Liz went to work at a distribution warehouse in Omaha. It’s been said that she had no female friends, but that’s not entirely true. Liz made a friend at her new job. Cherokee Montoya, a statuesque woman with high cheekbones and long, black hair, liked her immediately. No one knows why Liz switched between names, but she introduced herself as Shanna. To Cherokee, Shanna appeared to be a dedicated mom, working hard to make ends meet. Cherokee could relate to that, for she, too, had once been a struggling mom on her own. Widowed in her early twenties, she had been through some hard times. She was no longer single, thanks to a sneaky but loving scheme concocted by her younger sister, Celeste.
Worried her sister was lonely, Celeste had posted Cherokee’s profile on an online dating site. “She would ask me questions,” Cherokee remembers, “And I’d be like, ‘What’s this for?’ and she’d be like, ‘Just answer