Episode 2 - Where The Trail Ended

Episode Summary

When six-year-old Kinzleigh Reeder vanished from rural Tennessee, hundreds of volunteers, law enforcement officers, helicopters, drones, and search teams spent days combing miles of rugged terrain with no sign of her.

As hope began to fade, one decision changed everything.

Sources

•  Tennessee Bureau of Investigation (TBI) 
•  DeKalb County Sheriff's Department 
•  Rutherford County Sheriff's Office 
•  WJLE Radio 
•  NBC News 
•  International Business Times (IBTimes) 
•  WKRN News 2 Nashville 
•  WSMV 4 Nashville 
•  Fox 17 Nashville 
•  Tennessee Department of Children's Services 
•  Pea Ridge community historical resources 
•  Public statements by Sheriff Patrick Ray 
•  Public statements by Deputy Chris Tidwell 

Support

If you suspect a child is being abused or neglected, help is available.

Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline
Call or text 800-4-A-CHILD (800-422-4453)
Available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the United States.

 If you know of a case where an animal helped solve a crime or save a life, I'd love to hear about it. 

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Music by Vibe Depot and Mircea Iancu

Transcript

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SPEAKER_00 0:01

Does the grass feel good on your back? You look like a dork rolling around like that. But I love you anyway. Uh, do you have something in your mouth? I mean, what is that? Oh, it's an earthworm. Gross. You're gross. Sometimes animals find what we wish they wouldn't. And sometimes they find the exact thing we need them to. This is Dog Days of Murder, where your love of animals meets your fascination with true crime. Welcome friends. Nice to have you back. We hope everyone is well, keeping cool now that summer's here. And just a quick note it is summer, it's hot. I have a fan going. I hope it's not loud. If it is, let me know. I'm your host, Paula, and this is my micromanager and co-host, Ayn. Before we get started, I have a favor to ask. If you enjoyed this episode, tell one person about Dog Days of Murder this week. Podcasts grow because listeners share them, and that's still the biggest compliment you can give. Alright, Ayn is set up with her fan and some cold water. Let's get to the episode. Today's story is where the trail ended. As always, a quick heads up. This is a true crime podcast featuring real investigations and the animals connected to them. Today's episode includes child abuse and neglect. Listener discretion is advised. It may also include excessive slobber, scratching at the door, and howling in excitement. You have been warned. Nestled among the rolling hills of Middle Tennessee sits DeCalb County, a rural community where life moves at a slower pace. Forested ridges stretch for miles, gravel roads wind through the countryside, and neighbors often know each other by name. Tucked into the southern part of the county is a place called Pea Ridge, named generations ago for the field peas that grew well in its rocky soil. Today, it's a quiet corner of Tennessee where church steeples rise above the trees, children play outdoors, and the sounds of nature often drown out everything else. It's the kind of place where a child could disappear into the woods for an afternoon. In the summer of 2021, one little girl disappeared for far longer than that. Six year old Kinsley Reader should have been worrying about scraped knees. Or whether there was enough daylight left to play outside before dinner. She should have been riding her bike, getting grass stains on her clothes, and coming home when someone called her name. Instead, by the spring of twenty twenty one, adults were making decisions about where she was safe to live. Just a few months earlier, concern for Kinsley's well being had already brought deputies to her father's doorstep. Or more accurately, beneath the bridge. It was the early morning hours of march eighteenth, 2021. A passerby noticed an Isan Rogue sitting beneath the Dry Creek Bridge near Pidge Road and called authorities. When deputies arrived, they found the SUV stuck in the creek bed after heavy rain had caused the water to rise. But the vehicle was empty. Nearby, under the bridge, they found Nicholas Reeder and his six year old daughter Kinsley. According to investigators, Reader told deputies that they had planned to spend the night there. He had set up a campsite beneath the bridge, left to buy groceries and supplies, then returned only to find his vehicle trapped by the rising water. The deputy ordered the pair to leave because of the dangerous conditions. Although Reeder reportedly wanted to come back later, he and Kinsley were taken home instead. For investigators, though, the night wasn't over. Kinsley was placed in the temporary custody of a family member through the Tennessee Department of Children's Services. Authorities arrested Nicholas Reader on a charge of child abuse and neglect. After Reeder was released from jail, he was permitted to live in the same home where Kinsley was staying. Ill advised? I think it's safe to say yes. But there was hope that Reeder would get the help and support he needed to be the father that Kinsley deserved. You may be wondering about Kinsley's mother. I did too. But despite extensive research, I found no public information about her role in this case, so I won't fill in those blanks with assumptions. For a little while, it seemed like life was moving forward. On june sixteenth, twenty twenty one, a judge granted custody of Kinsley to the Tennessee Department of Children's Services. A few days later, caseworkers arrived expecting to find the six year old little girl. Instead, she wasn't there. As investigators began asking questions, the answers became more troubling. Family members told him they hadn't seen Kinsley since may twenty sixth. That's twenty six days. Nearly a month had passed before anyone realized six year old Kinsley Reader was missing. On june twenty one, the Tennessee Department of Children's Services contacted the Decalb County Sheriff's Office to report her missing. Deputies immediately entered Kinsley's information into the National Crime Information Center, or the NCIC, the nationwide database used by law enforcement to track missing people. Sheriff Patrick Ray also contacted the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, hoping the case qualified for an amber alert or an endangered child alert. There was every reason to fear for Kinsley's safety. She was believed to be with her father, the same man who had been arrested just three months earlier on child abuse and neglect charges involving his daughter. But in Tennessee, not every missing child case qualifies for an amber alert. Investigators must meet specific legal requirements before one can be issued, including evidence that the child is in imminent danger, and enough information about the child, the suspected abductor, or a vehicle to make a statewide alert useful. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation determined this case didn't meet those requirements. Instead, they issued a missing child alert and distributed Kinsley's photograph, hoping someone somewhere might recognize the little girl whose whereabouts had become a mystery. As the search stretched into its fourth day, hope was becoming harder to hold on to. Somewhere in the hills and hollows of Pea Ridge, a six year old girl was needing to be found. The search spread across the rural community. Deputies walked fields, checked out buildings, and searched wooded areas where a child could easily disappear from sight. Overhead, aircraft equipped with thermal imaging searched for any sign of life below. Drones buzzed over the trees, capturing images of places too difficult to reach on foot. One by one, more agencies joined the effort. The Tennessee Highway Patrol, the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, the FBI, rescue squads, emergency medical personnel, firefighters. Everyone shared the same goal find Kinsley. Sheriff Patrick Ray later said hundreds of manpower hours had been poured into the search. Still, there was nothing. No phone call, no confirmed sighting, no little girl. That's when investigators decided to try something they hadn't tried yet. They called the Rutherford County Sheriff's Office. Not for more deputies, not for another helicopter. They asked for a bloodhound, and his name was Fred. Fred worked alongside canine deputy Richard Tidwell. Unlike patrol dogs trained to apprehend suspects or detect narcotics, Fred's specialty was tracking people. Everything about a bloodhound is built for that job. The loose folds of skin around Fred's face helped to trap scent particles close to his nose. His long, pendulous ears swept the ground as he moved, stirring scent upward with every step, toward a nose equipped with nearly three hundred million scent receptors. Humans have about five million. Nature had equipped him with tools no piece of technology could match. Now, after four days of searching, investigators were about to find out just how remarkable those tools really were. Deputies handed Tidwell an item carrying Nicholas Reader's scent. Fred studied it carefully. For the first time in four days, the search that had involved helicopters, drones, deputies, and hundreds of hours of manpower rested on one extraordinary nose. Then they asked Fred to find Kinsley. Fred lowered his nose to the ground and quietly went to work. Unlike the deputies searching around him, Fred wasn't looking for movement in the trees or someone hiding in the brush. He was following a scent invisible to everyone else. Deputy Richard Tidwell walked a few steps behind, allowing his partner to work the trail at his own pace. Tracking isn't about speed. It's about patience, trust, and following wherever descent leads. Together they made their way across the rugged landscape of Pea Ridge. The trail carried them through wooded areas, across uneven ground, and past old fence lines and scattered outbuildings. Thick brush and rolling terrain had already challenged search crews for four days, but Fred wasn't distracted by any of it. His world existed just a few inches above the earth. Every step brought the team a little farther across Nicholas Reeder's property. Searchers followed quietly behind, watching the bloodhound work, trusting that he was reading a trail no human could detect. Then Fred's pace began to change. Without hesitation, he walked straight toward a small outbuilding. He stopped at the door, and he sat down. To anyone unfamiliar with the bloodhound, it might not have looked like much, but Deputy Tidwell knew exactly what Fred was saying. The trail ended here. Deputies approached the small outbuilding very carefully. As they got closer, they could see where there was something unusual about it. The windows weren't simply boarded over. They had been covered with sheets of metal. The door had been reinforced and barricaded from the inside. Whatever was inside, someone had gone to great lengths to keep it hidden. Officers prepared to make a forced entry. When they finally got the door open, they stepped into a cramped space divided by blankets hanging from a makeshift clothesline. Then they looked behind those blankets. There, hidden from the outside world were Nicholas Reeder and six year old Kinsley. After nearly a month of wondering where she was, Kinsley was here and she was alive. For everyone who spent the last four days searching the hills, woods, and backroads of Pea Ridge, it was the moment they had been hoping for. But relief quickly gave way to concern. The tiny outbuilding had no ventilation. There was no air conditioning. Investigators found very little food, very little water. The air was heavy with the smell of ammonia. According to investigators, Nicholas and Kinsley had been using a five gallon bucket as a toilet. The search was finally over, but the nightmare Kinsley had been living was only beginning to come into focus. Deputies immediately took Nicholas Reeder into custody. But for the moment, their attention turned to Kinsley. After nearly a month hidden inside that tiny outbuilding, she stepped back into fresh air. The metal covered windows, the barricaded door, the darkness of the little shed, the makeshift toilet were finally behind her. She was safe. For the men and women who had spent the last four days searching the hills, woods, and backroads of Pidge, it was the outcome they had refused to give up on. As Sergeant James Holloway later said, everyone was prepared to stay on scene until the little girl was safely located and out of harm's way. It is an honor to serve alongside some of the most dedicated and highly trained first responders in the country. Then came a moment no one could have planned. Before leaving the scene, Kinsley had one request. Now, most six year olds are drawn to dogs. But this six year old wanted to meet the dog who had just saved her. Deputy Richard Tidwell brought Fred over, and the bloodhound greeted her the only way he knew how. He gave her a few sloppy licks across the face. Kinsley laughed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and she gave him a big hug. Tidwell praised Fred, rubbed his ears, and reached into his pocket for the reward his partner had earned. Chicken. A short time later, Kinsley was turned over to DeCalb County deputies and released into the custody of the Tennessee Department of Children's Services. She was finally out of harm's way. For Kinsley, the ordeal was over. For Nicholas Reeder, it was just beginning. After Kinsley was found, Reeder was booked into the DeCalb County jail on charges of child abuse and neglect, custodial interference, and failure to appear. His bond was set at one hundred and seventy five thousand dollars. For Kinsley, the legal process was only beginning. But thanks to one determined search team, one extraordinary bloodhound, and the deputy who trusted him. She had the chance to face it safely. For Fred, the search for Kinsley wasn't the beginning of his career, and it certainly wasn't the end. He continued serving alongside canine deputy Richard Tidwell with the Rutherford County Sheriff's Office, doing exactly what he'd been trained to do. He located other missing people, including a woman during a Tennessee silver alert. He visited elementary schools, where children lined up to meet the friendly bloodhound and accompanied Tidwell to community events and veterans gatherings. Tidwell reflected that he spent more time with Fred than he did with his own family. They lived together, worked together, and knew each other's rhythms in a way only longtime partners can. Fred never seemed to understand that he was anything special. To him, every search began the same way. Someone handed his partner an article carrying a scent, he lowered his nose to the ground, and when he finished his job, there was usually a piece of grilled chicken waiting. Tidwell smiled as he remembered Kinsley's rescue. He said I praised him and I loved on him. I pulled the chicken reward out of my pocket. He ate the chicken and wanted to meet other people as if to say, Look what I've done. This is one search that stands apart. Not because it made headlines, not because it involved dozens of first responders, helicopters, drones, or hundreds of hours of searching, but because at the end of that search, a six year old little girl asked to meet the dog who had found her. She didn't ask to meet the sheriff, or the deputies, or the pilots overhead. She asked for Fred. Maybe that's the part of this story I'll remember most. Not the barricaded shed, not the metal covered windows, not even the remarkable work of a bloodhound following a trail no human could detect. I'll remember a frightened little girl wrapping her arms around the neck of the dog who helped bring her back into the light. Sometimes the greatest reward isn't the chicken in your pocket. Sometimes it's the hug. If you know a child who may be experiencing abuse or neglect, there are people you can call. The Child Health National Child Abuse Hotline is available 24 hours a day. You can call or text 1-800-4A Child. That's 1-800-422-4453. Or you can call 911. I can just see Kinsley hugging Fred, can't you? I hope he's still getting all the chicken. Okay, friends. Dog Days of Murder is an Angry Hamster production, hosted and produced by me, Paula Quintana, and as always, Ayn. I will make sure all of the sources and all of the links to all of the things are posted in the show notes. Thank you so much for being here. We appreciate each and every one of you. Ayn and I wish you a wonderful week. Stay cool, and we will see you next Monday. Until then, Ayn, grab your lead.