In the summer of 1985, eight-year-old twins Ila and Daisy Mercer pulled their red Radio Flyer wagon to a park in Rockport, Massachusetts, and vanished, leaving their mother, Moren Mercer, in a fog of grief. For 15 years, the case remained cold, a wound that never healed. Then, in 2000, a fisherman’s net dragged that same wagon from the depths of the Atlantic, sparking a chilling investigation. A child’s voice on a recovered tape, a dockworker’s confession, and a fishmonger’s dark grudge unraveled a betrayal that shook the town. This is the story of two girls lost to the sea and a truth that surfaced against all odds.
A Summer Day Shattered
Rockport, Massachusetts, in 1985 was a postcard-perfect coastal town where neighbors knew each other’s dogs and doors stayed unlocked. Ila and Daisy Mercer, identical twins with bright eyes and boundless energy, were the heart of their mother Moren’s world. On August 12, they wheeled their red wagon to the park across the street, a routine adventure to play and explore. Moren expected them home by 5:30 p.m. for dinner. When 5:45 came and the park was empty, panic set in. She scoured the town—park, fish market, neighbors’ yards—but the girls were gone. Police, helicopters, and divers found nothing. The twins, and their wagon, had vanished.
Moren, a fish market owner, and her husband John, who died years earlier, had built a life around their daughters. The town rallied, plastering posters and searching the coast, but hope faded. By 1990, the case was cold, and Moren’s life became a ritual of grief, rinsing John’s old mug at the sink, staring at the park where her girls last played. “They knew not to wander,” she told police. “Someone took them.” But with no evidence, the town moved on, leaving Moren alone with her ghosts.
The Wagon from the Deep
On a chilly morning in October 2000, fisherman Tommy Caldwell was hauling nets off Devil’s Drop, a treacherous stretch of ocean avoided by locals for its rocks and currents. His net snagged something heavy—a rusted, barnacle-crusted red Radio Flyer wagon, its scratched side and faded purple nail polish unmistakable. Moren, summoned by Officer Brennan, confirmed it at Granite Cove’s dock: “Daisy scratched it on the garage. Ila painted it with my polish.” Detective James Morrison, who’d worked the case in 1985, saw the implications. Devil’s Drop was 15 miles offshore. Someone with a boat had taken the girls there.
The discovery turned a missing persons case into an active crime scene. Divers scoured the ocean floor, and Morrison reopened the case file, thick with yellowed statements. “Whoever did this knew Rockport,” he told Moren. “They knew how to hide.” Tommy Caldwell, uneasy in the spotlight, mentioned the old fish market rivalry. Moren’s Mercer’s Fresh Catch had outshone Frank Dwit’s chaotic stall, and Frank, a gruff fisherman, took it personally. A week before the girls vanished, he’d given them hand-carved toy boats, an odd gesture from a man known for his temper. Moren hadn’t thought much of it—until now.
A Fishmonger’s Grudge
Frank Dwit, with his cigarette-stained fingers and sharp tongue, ran Dwit’s Market like a stormy sea. In 1985, his business lagged behind Moren’s pristine displays, and locals whispered he resented her success. The toy boats—red and blue for Ila, yellow and green for Daisy—felt like a calculated move, not kindness. Moren, driven by instinct, visited Frank’s old market, now a faded shell. Its back shed, always locked, stood ajar. Inside, among rotting fish crates, she found a blue plastic hairbrush etched with “Ila.” Her heart raced as she handed it to Morrison, who confirmed it matched a 1985 inventory photo.
A warrant search of the shed uncovered more: a second hairbrush, a child’s shoe sole, a dress fragment, and a black-and-white photo of two girls by the water, dated to the 1970s. On its back, in pencil: “Last ones, but nobody, no charge.” The evidence was damning but circumstantial. The DA hesitated, citing no bodies or confession. Moren, furious, demanded, “What was the point of digging it up?” Morrison’s calm reply: “Frank didn’t act alone.” The town buzzed with rumors, but Frank remained free, sipping coffee at Marlin’s Diner, his gaze fixed on the sea.
The Silver Lighter’s Secret
A breakthrough came from Gail Rock, a local historian sorting donations at St. John’s Chapel. In a locked box, she found a silver Zippo lighter engraved with “RM” and a fish hook. Morrison recognized it as belonging to Robbie Maddox, a dockworker who worked with Frank in 1985 and vanished that August. Tax records showed Robbie’s last paycheck coincided with the twins’ disappearance, followed by a $4,000 withdrawal. A search of his old basement apartment revealed a sealed envelope addressed to Moren. Inside, Robbie’s confession: “I thought it was a prank. Frank said we’d scare them, then take them home. He took the boat to Devil’s Drop. I was afraid.”
Developed film from the same box showed Frank’s boat, The Minnow, with the red wagon on deck, and the twins holding their toy boats. Dated August 12, 1985, the photos placed Frank at the scene. Morrison confronted him, showing the letter and photos. Frank, lighting a cigarette, muttered, “I didn’t kill them. Robbie handled that part.” But his denial crumbled under Morrison’s promise to drag Devil’s Drop until the truth surfaced.
Dragging the Sea
By November 2000, Morrison launched an underwater recovery operation at Devil’s Drop. Sonar detected a steel trunk at 68 feet. Divers hauled it up, revealing a pink sneaker, doll hair, a broken toy boat, and name tags for Ila and Daisy. A sealed cassette tape held Ila’s trembling voice: “We were taken on a boat. The man smells like fish. He says it’s a game, but I don’t think it is. We miss our mom.” A gruff voice—Frank’s—cut in: “Turn that off.” Moren, listening in Morrison’s office, wept silently. The town erupted, with witnesses recalling Frank’s late-night boat trips and excessive ice purchases that week.
On November 10, 2000, Frank Dwit was arrested for kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, and evidence tampering. At his 2001 trial, the tape, photos, and Robbie’s letter sealed his fate. The jury, hearing Ila’s voice, wept. Frank, convicted, received life without parole. As he left the courtroom, he muttered, “If Robbie had kept quiet, no one would’ve known.”
A Bench by the Water
The girls’ bodies were never found, but the trunk’s contents gave Moren closure. Rockport tore down Dwit’s Market, renamed the school Mercer Elementary, and installed a bench by Granite Cove: “In memory of Ila and Daisy Mercer, disappeared 1985, found 2000. Loved forever. Come home before dinner.” Moren, now living nearby, volunteers at a child advocacy center. “They stayed strong,” she says, smiling softly. “That’s what I remember.” The sea took her daughters but gave back their truth, a testament to love that outlasts silence.
