303 Red Dead Lane

The Maxwell Family

1985

Excerpt from St. Charles Police Press Release, June 8, 1986

ON AUGUST 3, 1985, seven-year-old Annabelle Maxwell was found abandoned in the front yard of her family home—303 Red Lane. Police and Paramedics were called to the home by a neighbor who stated the young girl was covered in what appeared to be blood. Her mother, forty-three-year-old Janice Maxwell and sister, seventeen-year-old Tiffany Maxwell were not present; their current whereabouts are unknown.

The information contained within is being released as per the request of the St. Charles Police Department Cold Case Investigations Unit. Their primary concern is to find answers and justice for the survivor of this horrific crime. The following is an account of the events based on documents found in the home, psychology reports, doctor’s examinations, police reports, and interviews with friends and neighbors.

Any individuals with information regarding the whereabouts of Janice or Tiffany Maxwell are asked to contact the St. Charles Police Department. A $15,000 reward is being offered by the FBI to anyone that can provide information leading to the whereabouts of the two missing women.

Incident Report

St. Charles Police Department

Officer Whitlock

August 3, 1985

RECEIVED CALL FROM Dispatch regarding minor in distress at 303 Red Road. Officer Cantrel and I arrived approximately ten minutes after the call came in. Minor, identified as Annabelle Maxwell, was found in the front yard of the home. Neighbors from 298, 301 and 305 Red Lane were present at the scene. Maxine Bledsoe (resident of 298 Red) stated she was first on scene when she heard minor Maxwell screaming. Bledsoe stated that she first looked out the window and saw the minor stumbling out of the front door of the home and down the stairs of the porch. (Evidence taken by crime scene investigator confirms blood spatter and droplets on stairs, porch, and threshold of the house and trailing into the home.) Bledsoe left prior to completing full interview. Further contact will be made.

Second neighbor on the scene (minor Kristy Trisk from 301 Red) stated she heard Bledsoe screaming for help and she came outside to find out what was going on. Trisk stated that she was a close friend of the family and worked at Joey’s Pizza with the two family members. She further stated she had spent many nights at the home. Trisk stated that minor Maxwell lived in the home with her mother, Janice Maxwell (approximate age 41) and Tiffany Maxwell (age 17). Trisk stated she last saw Janice and Tiffany on August 2, 1985, when they had dinner after her shift at Joey’s Pizza. She stated there had been issues between Janice and Tiffany Maxwell with regard to a romantic entanglement that had gone on between Rodney Thompson—owner of Thompson’s Lumber—and Janice Maxwell. Trisk wasn’t sure if Janice had actually been in a relationship with Thompson or not. She further stated that minor Maxwell disliked the romantic exploits of her mother and she was saving money in order to move Annabelle and herself to a more stable environment but as far as Trisk knew, minor Maxwell had not saved enough to actually move away from the family home due to other monetary issues the family was having. Trisk did not believe that Tiffany Maxwell would leave her sister behind stating Janice Maxwell did not appear to be a very good mother or a positive role model for either of the children.

Trisk stated the family relocated recently from Florida and she met Tiffany Maxwell during the summer enrichment program at St. Charles High School. Trisk alluded to discontentment among the Maxwell children; however, she stated minor Tiffany had started to embrace their new home since she had secured a job and started dating Joseph Langle. (Attempted to contact Langle later in the afternoon but there was no answer on the home telephone number. Will visit the Langle home to conduct interview).

Neighbor from 305 Red Road left prior to being interviewed. Officer Cantrel will execute home check at a later time to conduct interview and see if any further information can be obtained.

Later examination of the home found both of the Maxwell minors’ bedrooms in disarray. Blood spatter and smears were observed on various surfaces of the furniture, threshold and door leading into Annabelle Maxwell’s bedroom. Smaller amounts of blood were observed in minor Tiffany’s bedroom and the adjacent bathroom. The bathtub was observed as being full of water and almost overflowing. St. Charles Crime Scene Unit took samples of all blood related materials and County Crime Scene was called in to complete a more thorough investigation of the girls’ bedrooms and the collection of personal effects and any other evidence that can be located. A completed report from their agency is expected in ten to twelve weeks. There was no evidence suggesting that minor Tiffany or mother Janice left the home of their own accord. Both individuals’ personal effects (wallet, purse, identification) were found on the counter in the kitchen. A vehicle registered to Janice Maxwell was found in a detached garage at the back of the property; the vehicle’s keys were found above the driver’s side visor.

Both Janice and Tiffany Maxwell have not been located. At this time, they will be considered missing persons until positive blood analysis can be completed to determine if there is a type match to any of the Maxwell females.

Initial evidence collected by Crime Scene Personnel consisted of their personal affects including a backpack believed to belong to Tiffany, a purse that held Janice Maxwell’s identification, an address/phone book that was located on the kitchen counter and a journal that was found sitting on Tiffany Maxwell’s desk. All evidence to be cataloged by Crime Scene Personnel then forwarded for further analysis.

Plans have been made to transfer minor Annabelle Maxwell to the custody of Ms. Nolan at the St. Charles Girl’s Observatory. Due to lack of familial information available, no further contact or notifications will be performed outside of the individuals listed in the phone book found in the home. Minor Annabelle will remain at the girls’ home until further order of the court or directive by the Sheriff.

All interview attempts with minor Maxwell at the scene were unsuccessful due to her mental and physical state. She was examined by Doctor Thorndale on the scene, and subsequently, at St. Charles Memorial Hospital. Doctor’s report will follow and report to be amended once received.

Tiffany’s Journal

May 11, 1985

MOM’S GONE TOTALLY mental this time, that’s for sure. I’ve always chalked up her flightiness to her own set of neurotic parents, but I seriously think she’s embraced the gypsy lifestyle entirely too much. Her latest hair brained idea def takes the cake. We’d already moved at least 30 times when her latest failed attempt at love kicked all of us out. If I were eighteen, I’d venture out on my own; find a couple of roommates and stay in Florida, close to everything I love. But, that would leave me with no family and my little sister, Peanut, would be left to deal with my mom’s crap on her own and she’s not really old enough to fend for herself. In fact, Peanut is the only reason I haven’t run away from home. I know I couldn’t just up and leave her, nor could I take off with my seven-year-old sister and have both of us survive. When my mom told me she was pregnant by Husband #3, I thought she was going through an early midlife crisis. I was only ten years old, but I already knew my mom was a few biscuits shy of a full pan. Like most guys in mom’s life, #3 got tired of my mom not being able to hold down a serious job for longer than two weeks and he bolted before Peanut was even born. After that guy took off, Mom systematically dated almost every boss she had, so Peanut has had multiple ‘fathers’ in her short life.

At least I was lucky; I knew my real dad. In fact, he was the longest relationship my mom ever had. I think everyone was in shock and devastated when he died in a freak jet skiing accident; or we assumed he died since they never recovered his body from the depths of the Atlantic. I’d like to think that instead of being dead he was recruited by King Triton for his merman army… wishful thinking, I know. But that is a more acceptable explanation than the one we were given by the local police and the drunk partiers he was with that day. I was only five when it happened, but we still take a moment of silence on the anniversary of his death. Morbid… and a true sign that my mom never really got over the loss of my dad. Plus, we always share a Twinkie and Coke at some point on that day—they were my dad’s two favorite things and something we do to feel closer to him, even if it is just for a moment.

I avoided packing as long as I could—but once I started—it didn’t take long; seriously, it only took five minutes. Yeah. Five. That’s it. Everything I owned fit into one medium sized box, a tote and a small satchel. But, I really didn’t even need to pack the satchel; it only held a few things that were left over from my junior year of school: this journal, a few art supplies one of my teachers was nice enough to give me as a gift and some left over colored pencils that were almost nubs from a drafting kit one of the men in mom’s life gave me for Christmas. That was pretty much the only time we had any disposable income to buy my art supplies. At least with this move, Mom said she’d let me get a job and let me spend the money on whatever I wanted. Even if I can spend half the money on myself, that would be okay. But, something tells me my paycheck is going to have to go towards bills—at least initially. Funny thing about seven year olds—they kinda want to eat on a regular basis. Then again, I appreciate eating something that didn’t come out of a paper bag or cellophane wrapper once in a while, too.

Hopefully I’ll find a job quickly when we get to St. Charles, but I have no idea what type of jobs there might be or if anyone will even be hiring. I barely remember visiting there as a child. When Mom said that my dad’s Aunt passed away and left us her house—free and clear—I was a bit skeptical. As far as I know, Mom didn’t have anything to do with Dad’s family after he died. So why would she want to give us a house? That makes no sense to me, but of course my mom doesn’t think anything of it. She’s just blissfully going into this move as a fresh start. God, I hate when she is so optimistic; she doesn’t even know anything about where we are going or if she’ll be able to find a job when we get there. She’s already blown most of the money she got from divorcing #3 by buying a newer Station Wagon since her piece of crap Buick wouldn’t make the trip all the way to Missouri. So, if one of us can’t get a job right away, it won’t matter that we have a free house because we won’t have money for electricity, water, or even food. Three months is all I have left until I turn eighteen. Yes. That’s all that is left; then I’ll have to figure out what to do about my future, my sister and this nomadic life that I’ve been forced to accept. Sure, Peanut may be annoying and I may not have wanted her around at first, but now she’s here and I can’t remember what life was like before she was born. I love that little nut. If anyone asks though, I’d deny it.

Mom just hollered that it’s already time to get on the road. Makes me wonder if she plans on hogging the wheel the whole way there or if she plans on letting me drive the boat that she calls a car. She can barely park the thing; I don’t know how she expects the giant beast to get us all the way to Missouri safely… not to mention how much money I’m sure it’s going to cost in gas. As if we even have enough cash to make this trip. I don’t know how much is left over from selling the few pieces of furniture we had and I know she sold the ring my dad gave her even after I begged her not to. But, there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just have to get Peanut through the next few days, get to the house, and figure out a strategy for ending this merry-go-round life that Mom has forced us into. All of my friends think that it’s just so cool that my mom talks about boys, acts like one of the girls, watches MTV and knows all the words to the latest songs… but they would totally feel differently if it were their mom. It’s not as great as it sounds. Trust me; it kinda sucks.

St. Charles Post Dispatch

Jane Wiggins Interview Notes

August 5, 1985

Interviewee: Homeowner 298 Red Lane (Maxine Bledsoe)

BASED ON A TIP from (name redacted due to informant #1 being a minor), visited the home of Maxine Bledsoe—she was unavailable. Interviewed Informant #1; she stated that Ms. Bledsoe was the individual that initially found Annabelle screaming in the Maxwell’s yard. Police have been unwilling to release information regarding the girl’s discovery based on her mental and physical condition.

Informant #1 claimed that Ms. Bledsoe babysat Annabelle most evenings since her mother and sister were working at the local pizzeria. Informant #1 stated the mother, Janice Maxwell, had applied for more than three jobs since moving to town with her daughters but the only place that