In the case of Cora O’Neal, Sawyer noticed, her disappearance had received national attention because a family member advocate had made all the difference. But sadly, Cora had yet to be found.
Sawyer’s research often took her down several rabbit holes, which could be time-consuming. But more often than not, the information she pulled together from different sources allowed her to collect and organize it in a way no one else had before. And that was one of the things she liked best about investigating. All these different paths, in her opinion, made it possible for her to see what others might miss if their focus was too narrow.
In this case, her exploration eventually brought her to an article about runaways. It had been written five years ago by a reporter who used to work at the Sacramento Independent. The article discussed how missing children were often mislabeled as runaways. And how crime, neglect, and abuse were so prevalent in most communities. The reporter’s story focused on Danielle Woods, an eleven-year-old girl who was last seen getting off a school bus in Arden-Arcade, nine miles away. Because she’d run away once before, her case received no attention at all from authorities. Relatives believed she was one of the forgotten children, also known as “thrown-away children,” because she’d suffered neglect and abuse at the hands of her mother and was told repeatedly to leave home and never return.
Sawyer wondered if Danielle Woods’s parents simply hadn’t reported their daughter missing because of the abuse she’d suffered at their hands. Could they be responsible for her disappearance?
Or maybe Danielle had been lured away by someone she’d met online?
She could have gotten lost or injured or taken by a family member trying to help her.
Bottom line, the missing children problem was far more complex than headlines suggested. Midway through the story, there was a mention of a young girl who’d narrowly escaped being abducted. No name was included. This tidbit intrigued Sawyer, but further research revealed no additional information. The byline read MITCH DEMATTEI, REPORTER. He had left Sacramento to work for a paper in San Francisco, but she didn’t have an address or telephone number. LinkedIn, however, provided her with an email.
She sent DeMattei a message, letting him know she was researching missing children in the area and was interested in talking to him about his article on runaways. Then she resumed her search on Alexa Moore. It took some time, scouring through articles where Alexa’s name popped up, but ultimately led nowhere. It wasn’t until she typed in “Mary Jo Moore,” a relative of Alexa Moore’s, that she learned the ten-year-old was kidnapped by her father, which then led to a one-year court battle between Alexa’s parents. The judge granted full custody to the mother. Alexa was now in high school and doing well.
Sawyer crossed Alexa Moore’s name off her list and then did a search for Carly Butler. On her eleventh birthday, Carly had disappeared on her way home from school.
An email from Mitch DeMattei popped up on Sawyer’s computer screen. She opened it and saw that he’d provided her with a telephone number, telling her to call anytime. She picked up her cell and tapped in his number.
Mitch DeMattei answered on the first ring. He had a lively, friendly voice.
“This is Sawyer Brooks with the Sacramento Independent,” she said before thanking him for taking her call.
“Not a problem. What can I help you with?”
“In your article on runaways you mention a near abduction that occurred almost five years ago in the Sacramento area, but I don’t see a name, and I couldn’t find anything else on the internet about it.”
“The girl’s name is Paige Owens. The reason you can’t find anything is because Paige’s mom, Rene Owens, refuses to talk to the media or anyone else about what happened.”
“Why?”
“Because the ordeal absolutely petrified her. She was convinced that the woman who had tried to abduct her daughter as she walked to the bus stop was still out there, watching and waiting to steal her daughter away at any given moment.”
“A woman tried to abduct the little girl?”
“Unusual, but it happens,” he said.
A chill raced up Sawyer’s spine. The thought of this woman failing to kidnap a child and then stalking the family was beyond horrifying. “Did Rene Owens have reason to believe she was being watched?” Sawyer asked. “I mean, did she see someone parked outside? Was she being followed?”
“Rene Owens talked to me on one occasion, a week after the near abduction. She told me she saw a woman in a white SUV following her on multiple occasions. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she said she was adding garbage to the waste container outside when she spotted the same white SUV parked down the street. There was a woman in the driver’s seat, and she took off without bothering to turn on the headlights. When Mrs. Owens opened the waste container, she found her beloved cat of many years dead on top of the heap. She said it was a warning. Days later, Rene Owens got a court order to have the police report sealed, and she stopped talking to the media.”
“Do you have an address for the Owens family?” Sawyer asked.
“Mr. and Mrs. Owens divorced within a year of the incident, but they live in Carmichael. Rene Owens and her daughter were still in the house after the divorce. Pertinent information has been blacked out of the report, but the name and address should be there.”
“Thank you for your help. If you can spare another minute, I did have a few more questions for you.”
“No problem.”
“I was wondering about Danielle Woods, the runaway teen you focused on in your story. What do you think happened to her?”
There was a pause before he said, “From everything I gathered, and I’m not saying eleven-year-olds don’t run away, because they do, I don’t believe Danielle ever should have been labeled as a runaway.”
“She’s not listed at all in the NCMEC’s database.”
“Parents need to insist that their child’s name, date of birth, and description be logged in to the National Crime Information Center. In Danielle’s case, nobody seemed to care.”
“So if Danielle didn’t run away, what do you think happened to her?”
“You tell me. I spent hours talking to family, friends, and teachers. Danielle may have been neglected at home, but those closest to her all said the same thing—that Danielle had no intention of running away.”
“Did they say why they believed that to be true?”
“Because the first time she ran off, she spent the night in a cold, dark alleyway, and that was enough to convince her she’d rather take her chances at home.”
Sawyer added Danielle’s name to her list and then thanked him for his help. Before the call ended, though, he asked her about Sean Palmer and whether he was still working at the paper.
“He’s still here,” Sawyer said.
Mitch DeMattei laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.”
“Why is that?”
“All he used to talk about was retiring and spending more time with his family. But I sort of guessed it would never happen. Journalism is in his blood. Nobody can breathe life into a story like Palmer.”
“Agreed.”
She thanked him again, and after they said goodbye, Sawyer thought about what Palmer had said the other day about his relationship with his son. It wasn’t easy, learning to balance family with work. She knew that firsthand since she couldn’t recall the last time she’d done something that wasn’t work-related. After vowing to exercise or do yoga in the near future, she pushed the thought aside and went back to work, tracking missing children.