On a crisp September morning in 2007, Linda Patterson trudged through Milbrook Forest, her boots crunching on fallen leaves. For three years, she’d hiked this trail weekly, seeking solace in the woods where she once picked wildflowers with her goddaughter, Emily Chen. Fourteen years earlier, 10-year-old Emily vanished from a bathroom during the St. Matthews Community Center’s harvest festival in Forest Creek, Pennsylvania. The official report claimed she wandered off and drowned in the nearby Susquehanna River, but her body was never found. Linda, wracked with guilt for losing sight of Emily that night, never believed the story. Then, a glint of metal changed everything—a rusted box containing Emily’s pink Disney Princess watch and a note in her childish scrawl: “Help me. I’m scared. The man with the cross said I can’t go home. Room under the church.” This discovery shattered a 14-year mystery, exposing a chilling child exploitation ring led by trusted community figures.
A Festival Night Turned Tragic
October 23, 1993, was a lively evening at St. Matthews Community Center. The annual harvest festival drew 300 townsfolk, with games, food booths, and children’s choir performances. Emily, a bright 10-year-old who loved singing, attended with Linda, while her parents, David and Susan Chen, ran the Asian food booth. At 7:10 p.m., Emily asked to use the bathroom. Linda pointed her toward the community center, a familiar place where Emily attended Sunday school. By 7:35 p.m., when Emily didn’t return, panic set in. Volunteers scoured the building, woods, and riverbank. Police arrived at 8:15 p.m., but no trace of Emily was found. Detective Robert Walsh, leading the case, concluded she likely drowned after wandering off. After 18 months, the case went cold, leaving Linda and the Chens in anguish.
Linda, then 31, replayed that night endlessly. Emily’s trust in the church community haunted her. “She knew everyone,” Linda later told investigators. “She was so happy, singing ‘Jesus Loves Me’ in Mandarin with the choir.” The official drowning theory never sat right, especially since Emily’s jacket was found neatly hung in the main hall, not near the river.
A Forest Find Rewrites the Story
On September 15, 2007, Linda’s hike took her past a scarred oak in Milbrook Forest, two miles from St. Matthews. A metallic glint caught her eye—a tarnished box, partially exposed by recent rains. Inside, wrapped in decaying plastic, was Emily’s watch, stopped at 7:23 p.m., and a note: “Help me. I’m scared. The man with the cross said I can’t go home. Room under the church.” Linda’s hands shook as she read it. Emily had worn that watch the night she vanished. She called the Pennsylvania State Police, and Detective Sarah McKenzie arrived within 40 minutes with forensic technician James Rodriguez.
Rodriguez photographed the site, noting the box’s shallow burial. McKenzie examined the note, its aged paper preserved by plastic. “The handwriting matches a 10-year-old’s,” she said. “This suggests Emily was alive after her disappearance, possibly held somewhere.” Linda, trembling, insisted, “She didn’t drown. Someone took her.” Nearby, Rodriguez found a faded strip of yellow cotton on a branch—matching Emily’s festival sundress. McKenzie reopened the case as a suspected homicide, focusing on the “room under the church” and the “man with the cross.”
Uncovering a Church’s Dark Secrets
McKenzie dove into the 1993 case files, 400 pages of reports and statements. Walsh’s investigation had focused on accidental drowning, interviewing 37 witnesses who saw Emily between 5:00 and 7:10 p.m. No one reported distress. The trail ended at the community center’s back door, where tracking dogs lost her scent, suggesting she entered a vehicle. McKenzie zeroed in on St. Matthews’ basement, mentioned in Emily’s note. Reverend Michael Hartwell, pastor since 1982, had keys, as did custodian Thomas Miller, board members Harold Peterson, Janet Mills, Robert Kerry, and youth pastor Kevin Thompson (on vacation in 1993).
On September 16, McKenzie interviewed Hartwell, now 68, at St. Matthews. His silver cross lapel pin caught her eye—could he be the “man with the cross”? Hartwell, visibly shaken, recalled organizing search parties in 1993. “Emily was a light in our choir,” he said. “I complimented her solo at 6:30 p.m.” He confirmed the basement’s layout: four rooms, including Sunday school classrooms and a utility area. A crawl space under the fellowship hall existed but was rarely accessed. McKenzie noticed newer concrete in one classroom, repaired in 1995 for water damage. Hartwell said Harold Peterson’s construction company handled it, with Thomas Miller assisting.
A Pattern of Suspicion
Linda provided a list of 47 festival attendees, circling Thomas Miller’s name. “He was quiet that night, not his usual friendly self,” she said. “He kept suggesting Emily wandered to the river.” McKenzie interviewed Harold Peterson, 73, at his construction company. Peterson, nervous, confirmed leaving the festival early due to his wife’s migraine—an alibi unverifiable since Margaret Peterson died in 2004. He admitted supervising the 1995 basement repairs, with Miller and his nephew Jerry (deceased 2004) doing the work. Thomas Miller, 58, was equally evasive, claiming minimal interaction with Emily but admitting to cleaning bathrooms before her disappearance. A 1993 festival photo showed Miller watching Emily intently.
McKenzie’s research revealed a chilling pattern: Peterson Construction performed concrete work at seven sites—churches, schools, camps—where children vanished between 1990 and 2000. Jenny Morrison, 15, disappeared from the Clearfield County Fair in 1995; Billy Santos, 12, from Camp Woodland in 1997. Both sites had Peterson’s concrete projects. A background check showed David Krueger, a former Peterson employee, was arrested for child pornography in 2003. McKenzie suspected a network.
A Basement Burial Revealed
On September 18, McKenzie secured a warrant to scan St. Matthews’ basement with ground-penetrating radar. Within 30 minutes, anomalies suggested organic remains beneath the 1995 concrete. Excavation uncovered a child’s skeleton, yellow fabric fragments, and a sneaker—likely Emily’s. Forensic analysis confirmed death by asphyxiation, with no trauma, suggesting suffocation. McKenzie arrested Harold Peterson, who requested a lawyer. Thomas Miller fled but was caught at a Philadelphia bus station with $3,000 and a Miami ticket. He hinted at “others,” escalating the case.
In interrogations, Peterson confessed, implicating Miller. “Tom said it’d just be photos for collectors,” he sobbed. “Emily was taken for $20,000, but the buyer backed out.” Miller drugged and suffocated her, and they buried her in Miller’s trailer lot, later moving her under the church concrete. Miller admitted to photographing dozens of children, targeting vulnerable ones like Emily. He confessed to killing Jenny Morrison and Billy Santos, buried at the fairgrounds and camp, respectively.
A Network Unraveled
Peterson’s confession exposed a 15-year operation, starting in 1985 with Vincent Carluchi, a Philadelphia contact for wealthy collectors. They targeted 37 children, mostly for photos, but 11 were abducted, seven murdered. Peterson’s company concealed bodies in concrete at construction sites across four states. Excavations recovered Jenny and Billy’s remains, confirming Miller’s confessions. The FBI arrested 15 network members, seizing photos of Emily and Jenny. Peterson’s escape attempt on September 21, using construction skills to flee jail, led to his recapture in Milbrook Forest, digging up $47,000 in cash.
On November 15, 2007, Peterson received seven life sentences without parole. Miller, sentenced earlier, died in prison. The Emily Chen Children’s Safety Center opened in 2008, funded by $2.3 million raised by Linda. It educates 5,000 children annually on safety. The Emily Chen Act, passed in 2008, mandates stricter background checks for adults working with children. Emily’s note, buried in a forest, brought down a monstrous network, ensuring her legacy protects future generations.
