The Nobody Girls (Kendra Dillon Cold Case Thriller Book 3), Rebecca Rane [best book club books of all time txt] 📗

But she’d run away from a rough home and had landed with a rough crowd. Drug addiction had pushed her into a life that escalated risk and ended in violence. Shoop and Kendra found yearbooks, and Wilma had provided them with a few photos.

The photo of Linda Kay Ellis in a bag, like she was the same as the garbage around her, was fading. A bit, anyway. Kendra crafted the episode in hopes that the most vivid impression left was that of the living, breathing person. She wanted people to see Linda Kay in her best moments as Wilma’s big sister.

But that was one name. Only one episode of a show that would require at least six, maybe eight, to be a complete podcast season.

Kendra got to work finding someone who remembered Sincere Anderson. Her first name was unique. Kendra hoped that would help.

Some murders, some circumstances, for whatever reason, lived on. The brutality of the crime, the helplessness of the victim, or a dogged loved one, inspired people to post online theories in some cases or tributes in others.

A group of well-meaning victim advocates had a Facebook page devoted to murders in Monroe County, Michigan. Monroe County was adjacent to Port Lawrence but over the state line in Michigan.

It was there, in Monroe County, that twenty-year-old Sincere Anderson’s body was discovered. It had the hallmarks that Kendra and Shoop were looking for. Her body was dumped just outside a Welcome to Michigan travel plaza on North Bound I-75. It was discovered by a family pet, of all things.

According to a newspaper clipping Shoop found, a family traveling into Detroit for a reunion from Georgia had gotten out to stretch their legs. This was their last stop before they would reach Detroit, the dad had said to the paper.

They used the rest stop, walked around the green space, and let their dog take a little break too. The dog started barking and pulling and dragged the twelve-year-old trying to manage the leash to the garbage bag. When the boy got closer, he realized with horror what the garbage bag concealed.

Kendra read all she could find. The clippings focused on the family that made the discovery. Not much was written about the victim. It was frustrating.

Finally, after searching and searching, Kendra found a lead.

In 2018, during National Victims’ Rights Week, a Facebook post listed Sincere’s name and picture.

The post was put up by a woman named Ophelia Hoppings.

Kendra finally had something. They’d struck out on relatives for Sincere Anderson. And the last name, Anderson, was making things worse. It was too common. There were too many Andersons.

But Ophelia Hoppings, that was unique. Kendra could work with that.

She spent an entire day looking for more on Ophelia Hoppings. Hoppings was on Facebook, but everything was set to private.

Eventually, after going pages and pages backward in an internet search, a woman named Ophelia Hoppings was listed in a PDF of a Christmas program at Mt. Zion Baptist Church on Van Dyke, in Detroit.

Aha!

Kendra had found a picture. Ophelia was listed in a group photo of women on the Volunteer Banquet Committee. And again, there was Ophelia, in another picture online helping paint the nursery at the church.

Kendra had no address, but she had a church, and so she called the pastor and made her request.

It was a strange request, asking to have her name passed on to a congregant in hopes of getting an interview.

The pastor was friendly and said he would give Ophelia Kendra’s name and number. But it wasn’t the same as having a face-to-face with the woman, where Kendra could make her case to convince Ophelia to consent to an interview about a decades-old murder.

Kendra had no idea how her request would land.

It took a day to find Ophelia and another day to wait for her Pastor to put the information in front of her. But when Kendra’s phone rang, three days after her interview with Wilma Kay, Ophelia Hoppings was on the other end.

“Yes, I would be amenable to talking with you about Sincere.”

“I’ll come to you if that is okay. I’m only about an hour outside of Detroit.”

“Let’s meet at the church.”

“Perfect. And if you have any pictures or mementos, that would be so helpful. All I have is this autopsy photo.”

“Oh dear, I will bring what I have. It isn’t much. I will tell you that. But I will bring what I have.”

“Thank you.”

Kendra had worked hard to find someone who knew Sincere Anderson.

Maybe this would work. Maybe she could tell the stories of these forgotten women known only, up until now, as victims.

Kendra made the trip to Detroit. It was an easy drive from Port Lawrence, Ohio. When she got to Mt. Zion church, Ophelia Hoppings was waiting at the main entrance for her.

She was tiny, shorter than Kendra. She wore a linen skirt, a modest navy blue cotton blouse, and a smile of welcome.

“Pastor said we could use the sitting room, outside his office, if that works alright for you.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect.”

They sat down in a welcoming space. It had buttery yellow walls, tall windows, and the smell of dinner cooking somewhere in the church complex.

“I’m baking a broccoli casserole. There’s Wednesday church this evening. And pastor likes to have some fellowship after, in the rec room.”

Kendra wasn’t sure if she’d ever met a nicer woman.

“It smells lovely.”

“You’re welcome to stay and pray with us.”

Kendra smiled, and then she pulled off the band-aid. It was time to talk about the terrible past. A past that had nothing to do with church rec rooms, Kendra suspected.

“I just want you to start where you want to, talking about how you knew Sincere Anderson.”

Ophelia nodded and smiled sweetly. Then she began. “It saved my life, I think, what happened to her. That’s why I try to do the tribute. I lived the same life with her, and I was just lucky, or the pastor would say blessed.