On a sunlit morning in July 2000, a routine day of fishing off Devil’s Drop, a notorious stretch of rocky coast, yielded a discovery that would finally crack open one of New England’s most haunting cold cases.
For 15 years, the fate of Laya and Daisy Mercer—twin sisters who vanished while playing outside with their Radio Flyer wagon in 1985—had been a mystery that haunted their small harbor town. The case, once thought to be a tragic tale of children lost to the sea, would soon reveal a story far darker, and far closer to home, than anyone could have imagined.
A Town’s Nightmare Begins
August 12, 1985, was an ordinary summer day in Rockport, a tight-knit fishing community where everyone knew everyone. Moren Mercer, then a 31-year-old fishmonger, let her eight-year-old twins play in the park across from their home—a routine that felt safe in a town with one of the lowest crime rates in the state. But when the girls failed to return by dinnertime, Moren’s world began to unravel.
Police scoured the town, questioned neighbors, and dragged the harbor. The only clue: the girls’ beloved red Radio Flyer wagon was missing too. As weeks turned to months, hope faded. The official theory—an accident at sea—never satisfied Moren, but with no evidence of foul play, the case went cold.
Fifteen Years of Silence
Moren’s grief became a fixture of Rockport life, her once-busy fish stall shuttered, her home a shrine to the daughters she lost. “The town felt like a prison of memories,” she later told police. Old friends drifted away, unable to bridge the gulf of her sorrow. The only constants were the unanswered questions and the ache of not knowing.
The Wagon Resurfaces
On a July morning in 2000, Tommy Caldwell, a local fisherman, was trawling in deeper waters near Devil’s Drop—a spot most locals avoided for its treacherous currents and superstitious reputation. What he hauled up in his net stopped him cold: a battered, barnacle-encrusted red wagon, missing a wheel but instantly recognizable from the old news photos.
Caldwell’s immediate call to police set off a chain reaction. Forensics confirmed it was the Mercer twins’ wagon. The location—miles from shore, in waters few dared to fish—suggested someone with a boat had disposed of it. The case, dormant for 15 years, was suddenly a criminal investigation.
A Mother’s Hope Rekindled
Detective James Morrison, who had handled the original case, brought Moren to the harbor to see the wagon. She identified it instantly—pointing out the scratch Daisy made and the faded purple nail polish Laya had painted on days before their disappearance.
“This is definitely theirs,” Moren whispered, her voice trembling. For the first time in years, she felt hope. “Someone with a boat was involved. This is now a criminal investigation—possibly abduction,” Morrison told her.
The Prawn War
As police reopened the case, Moren revisited old haunts, seeking answers. At the fish market, she encountered Frank Dit, a fellow fishmonger who had taken over her stall after the girls vanished. Frank’s business, once failing, had flourished in her absence. Their exchange was tense—Frank brusquely offered her a box of seafood, a gesture that felt as much like a warning as a gift.
Meanwhile, Caldwell, the fisherman, reported a disturbing incident: someone had thrown a bag of rotting fish into his boathouse, likely in retaliation for his role in the case’s reopening. He described seeing a bald man in a dark blue Ford F-150—details that would soon prove crucial.
A Break in the Case
The investigation took a dramatic turn when Jesse Vaughn, a local fish cutter, approached Moren in a panic. Vaughn confessed that Frank had recently tried to rent his boathouse and boat, offering large sums of money and insisting on privacy. Frank, Vaughn revealed, was desperate—claiming he needed to “tie up loose ends.” Vaughn, wracked with guilt, admitted he had accepted the money but now feared for his safety and for Moren’s missing daughter.
Moren and Vaughn immediately alerted Detective Morrison, who launched a covert operation to surveil the boathouse and fishery. Unmarked police cars converged on the site as Frank’s truck was spotted, matching Caldwell’s description. From a hidden vantage, Moren watched in horror as Frank carried a limp, female figure—her now-adult daughter Laya—into the building.
Rescue and Revelation
Police moved swiftly, storming the fishery and arresting Frank Dit without incident. Inside, they found Laya, drugged but alive, and evidence of preparations for her murder and disposal. Laya, confused and traumatized, barely recognized her mother. “Frank said you were dead,” she whispered. “He lied about everything. And he… he killed Daisy.”
Laya’s testimony, corroborated by Frank’s own confession, revealed the full horror of what had happened. Frank, driven by jealousy and resentment over Moren’s business success, had lured the girls with promises of sweets and fishing. He sedated them, hid them in his boat, and for years moved them between harbors, even exploiting them among a network of complicit fishermen. When Daisy tried to escape as a teenager, Frank killed her and disposed of her remains using the tools of his trade.
Justice, at Last
Frank Dit’s arrest stunned Rockport. His motive, police revealed, was chillingly simple: revenge. Moren’s thriving business had cost Frank his family legacy and social standing. In his twisted logic, stealing her daughters was “evening the score.”
Jesse Vaughn, though complicit in renting out his property, was credited for coming forward and saving Laya’s life. Prosecutors indicated he would likely receive a lenient sentence in light of his cooperation.
A Town Forever Changed
As Moren and Laya left the police station, mother and daughter reunited after 15 years of unimaginable suffering, the town of Rockport grappled with the revelation that the monster who had stolen two children had lived—and prospered—among them. The case was a brutal reminder that evil can wear familiar faces and that truth, however deeply buried, will eventually surface.
For Moren, the long nightmare was over, but the healing had only begun. “You can lose everything,” she said, “but you can’t lose hope. Not if you want to survive.”
The Mercer case stands as a testament to the persistence of a mother’s love, the courage of those who finally spoke up, and the relentless pursuit of justice—even when the sea itself tries to keep its secrets.