On a cold Southern night in 2013 under a full moon, 20-year-old Heather Elvis parked her car at a boat ramp along the Intracoastal Waterway and was never seen again.
The disappearance of the beautiful, vivacious hostess at a popular Myrtle Beach, South Carolina restaurant made international headlines and triggered a sweeping high-stakes investigation that exposed a twisted web of deception, betrayal, sexual obsession, police corruption and revenge. But Heather’s body was never located.
A series of sensational trials involving a handsome restaurant coworker and his Disneyland-obsessed wife resulted in shocking verdicts – but no body – as her family desperately sought closure and fought for justice, and a resort town struggled to regain calm.
Read this latest gripping true crime from the bestselling author of BETTER OFF DEAD.
From The Book:
In the early morning hours of Dec. 18, 2013, Heather Elvis, a 20-year-old hostess at a Myrtle Beach, S.C., restaurant, drove out to the Peachtree landing launch ramp under a full moon and was never heard from again. After years of claiming her innocence, Tammy Moorer, whose husband had an affair with Heather, took the witness stand at her trial on kidnapping charges in an epic showdown with prosecutor Nancy Livesay.
Defense attorney Greg McCollum told the judge: “Your honor, at this time, the defense calls Tammy Moorer.”
Tammy had bleached blond hair and wore a long black sweater over a fuchsia blouse.
On Oct. 19, 2018, she took the oath to tell the truth, sat in the witness chair and smiled at the jury. She said she’d been to Peachtree Landing, but not the night that Heather Elvis disappeared.
“I’ve never been back,” she said.
“To your knowledge, did anybody that you know or associate with you go to Peachtree Landing on the night of Dec. 17, 2013?”
“No.”
“After midnight on Dec. 18, 2013, between the hours of, say, midnight and the next day, did you, yourself, go to Peachtree Landing?”
“No.”
“Did anybody that you know or are associated with go to Peachtree Landing between midnight and, say, noon the next day?”
“No.”
“To your knowledge, did somebody drive your F-150 black Ford pickup truck down 814 that night on the way to Peachtree Landing?”
“Not that I know.”
“Is this the first opportunity that you’ve had to publicly declare your innocence?” asked McCollum.
“It is. I have a gag order on my case,” said Tammy.
“Are you glad that you’re able to tell people what happened and what you did do and didn’t do?”
“I want people to know the truth. And I, too, want Heather found. I think she deserves to be found. And I think they botched her case and didn’t do justice for Heather.”
“That’s all I have, your honor.”
Nancy Livesay walked up and looked at Tammy Moorer. “Miss Moore, do you know who I am?”
“I do.”
“And who am I?”
“Nancy Livesay. You’ve made my life miserable.” Tammy stared Livesay: “Am I allowed to ask you a question?”
The judge said, “No, ma’am.”
“Sorry,” said Tammy.
“Just respond to her,” said the judge. “Of course.”
Livesay asked, “You do know who Heather Elvis is, correct?”
“I do. She is a very pretty girl.”
“Just so we’re on the same page,” said Livesay, holding up a photo of Heather, “this is her?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And is this the way you saw her?”
“I’ve never seen her. That’s a picture, yes.”
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