Reggie Brown stood at the counter of the Motor Vehicles Department, sifting through the limited

paperwork he had on the red Volkswagen he'd just fixed up.

The car appeared on the lot of his junkyard a few weeks prior, with the windows smashed

out and some other damage that looked relatively fresh. A handwritten note left on the vehicle read,

Dear Reggie, this hunk of junk is yours if you want it.

Don't run too good, but okay for parts.

I am leaving Vermont and don't need it no longer.

Signed or Peterson.

The note was good enough permission as any for Reggie,

but he thought that with a little effort he could

bring the car back to life.

Other than the broken glass and cosmetic damages, it was in good working order.

It took a few weeks to fix up the damage, but this wasn't a hunk of junk, as the note described.

And so with the car running just fine, Reggie was at the motor Vehicles Department to get it registered.

But when the agent returned to the counter where he stood waiting, Reggie learned he wouldn't

be registering the Red Volkswagen that day. There was a problem, a big one. This car

came back already registered. It belonged to a woman from North Cambridge, Vermont.

She'd been reported missing on November 5th, 1979.

The same day, the smashed car appeared on Reggie Brown's junkyard lot.

It was the first big clue in the disappearance of a beloved school teacher and young mother

that would

uncover any answer spanning a decade and stretching across the United States.

...