the Stop-N-Go
convenience store located at the west end of the Susquanny River Bridge. Saur reports that around 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday,
November 7, he saw a “large gang of kids” hanging around the bridge. Because of the time of night and the distance from the
store, he could not see clearly, but he had the impression that “something was going on.”
To rule out or include this activity in the death of Miranda Peizer, officers canvassed the students at Lincoln High School.
Most deny being out on the night of November 7 and can be vouched for by their parents. Some were working at part-time jobs;
these were verified. The individuals who cannot verify their movements or who have given an alibi that was subsequently contradicted
by verbal statements are as follows:
Kate Parsons
Michelle Gibson
Anna Hale
Kelci Platt
Morgan Williams
Kyle Edgar
Brendan O’Day
Rose Silverstein
Jaimi Silverstein
Keisha Jones
ACTION:The above subjects will be interviewed again. Victim’s mother, Tanya Peizer, should also be interviewed but is unavailable
at this time due to her state of mind in bereavement. Report to follow.
Chapter Five
N ick Tremore stood
at the front door of the apartment and checked his notebook. Number 202, the home of the victim’s mother.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
He knocked, and when no one answered after a few seconds, knocked again. Through his boots, he felt a small vibration, as
though something heavy had fallen somewhere at the back of the unit, and his instincts kicked in. He tried the door and to
his surprise, the knob turned under his hand.
“Mrs. Peizer?” he called. “It’s Deputy Tremore from the sheriff’s office. I left a couple of messages on your phone. Can I
come in?”
A sound that might have been a reply came from a bedroom. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
“Mrs. Peizer? Are you okay?”
A small woman with hair halfway between blonde and red appeared in the hallway, holding what looked to be a rope of some kind
in her hands.
“They had runs in them,” she said, and looked down at what he now realized were a pair of stockings. “I sent her to school
with runs in her hose.”
Aw, man.
Nick had plenty of experience with women—the kind he was related to and the kind he chose for himself—but he’d never gone
one-on-one with a grieving mother before.
“Maybe she put holes in them on purpose,” he offered. “Like the kids do with their jeans.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes overflowed and streaked her cheeks. “Not Randi.” She made a gulping sound. “They
were a statement for her. These were her favorites.”
“Uh, maybe I should come back another time.” He glanced around the tiny apartment. “Isn’t there supposed to be someone with
you?” Hadn’t Laurie said that she and her church ladies were watching out for her?
Tanya twisted the black hose between her fingers, and Nick had a sudden flash of what exactly a person in despair could do
with something like that. He resisted the urge to pull them out of her hands and put them somewhere safe.
“Cammie left a while ago.” Thin shoulders drooped. “She told me not to think about cleaning up Randi’s room yet, but I had
to.” She looked up at him as though he were about to haul her in for it.
Inside him, something twisted, hard.
“Mrs. Peizer, please, sit down.”
She let him lead her over to the couch, where she sat and wrung the hose between her hands, over and over. “Not Mrs.,” she
finally said. “I never married Randi’s dad.” A quick glance sideways at him. “That was before I became a Christian.”
He didn’t want to hear about ex-husbands or Christians. He was surrounded by them—Christians, not ex-husbands. His mother
and aunts never lost an opportunity to parade yet another prospective wife in front of him, and she was invariably a member
of some church or another. His brothers had done the right thing
convenience store located at the west end of the Susquanny River Bridge. Saur reports that around 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday,
November 7, he saw a “large gang of kids” hanging around the bridge. Because of the time of night and the distance from the
store, he could not see clearly, but he had the impression that “something was going on.”
To rule out or include this activity in the death of Miranda Peizer, officers canvassed the students at Lincoln High School.
Most deny being out on the night of November 7 and can be vouched for by their parents. Some were working at part-time jobs;
these were verified. The individuals who cannot verify their movements or who have given an alibi that was subsequently contradicted
by verbal statements are as follows:
Kate Parsons
Michelle Gibson
Anna Hale
Kelci Platt
Morgan Williams
Kyle Edgar
Brendan O’Day
Rose Silverstein
Jaimi Silverstein
Keisha Jones
ACTION:The above subjects will be interviewed again. Victim’s mother, Tanya Peizer, should also be interviewed but is unavailable
at this time due to her state of mind in bereavement. Report to follow.
Chapter Five
N ick Tremore stood
at the front door of the apartment and checked his notebook. Number 202, the home of the victim’s mother.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
He knocked, and when no one answered after a few seconds, knocked again. Through his boots, he felt a small vibration, as
though something heavy had fallen somewhere at the back of the unit, and his instincts kicked in. He tried the door and to
his surprise, the knob turned under his hand.
“Mrs. Peizer?” he called. “It’s Deputy Tremore from the sheriff’s office. I left a couple of messages on your phone. Can I
come in?”
A sound that might have been a reply came from a bedroom. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
“Mrs. Peizer? Are you okay?”
A small woman with hair halfway between blonde and red appeared in the hallway, holding what looked to be a rope of some kind
in her hands.
“They had runs in them,” she said, and looked down at what he now realized were a pair of stockings. “I sent her to school
with runs in her hose.”
Aw, man.
Nick had plenty of experience with women—the kind he was related to and the kind he chose for himself—but he’d never gone
one-on-one with a grieving mother before.
“Maybe she put holes in them on purpose,” he offered. “Like the kids do with their jeans.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes overflowed and streaked her cheeks. “Not Randi.” She made a gulping sound. “They
were a statement for her. These were her favorites.”
“Uh, maybe I should come back another time.” He glanced around the tiny apartment. “Isn’t there supposed to be someone with
you?” Hadn’t Laurie said that she and her church ladies were watching out for her?
Tanya twisted the black hose between her fingers, and Nick had a sudden flash of what exactly a person in despair could do
with something like that. He resisted the urge to pull them out of her hands and put them somewhere safe.
“Cammie left a while ago.” Thin shoulders drooped. “She told me not to think about cleaning up Randi’s room yet, but I had
to.” She looked up at him as though he were about to haul her in for it.
Inside him, something twisted, hard.
“Mrs. Peizer, please, sit down.”
She let him lead her over to the couch, where she sat and wrung the hose between her hands, over and over. “Not Mrs.,” she
finally said. “I never married Randi’s dad.” A quick glance sideways at him. “That was before I became a Christian.”
He didn’t want to hear about ex-husbands or Christians. He was surrounded by them—Christians, not ex-husbands. His mother
and aunts never lost an opportunity to parade yet another prospective wife in front of him, and she was invariably a member
of some church or another. His brothers had done the right thing
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