One year later, family still grieves for missing woman

The family stays composed until conversation turns to Viridiana Maldonado, their beloved daughter and sister, who has been missing for a year.

Then tears flow. They describe Viridiana, a young woman with dark, wavy hair and deep-brown eyes who left two children behind.

Her mother and sister care for her 7-year-old-son, Alex — her spitting image, they say — who continually asks about his mother.

Meanwhile, they're fighting Viridiana's estranged husband in court for custody of her 3-year-old son, now living with his father in another country.

Is she alive? Is she dead? What should they tell the children?

"We're not complete because my sister isn't here," said Jenne Cuevas, Viridiana's older sister, in Spanish. "I sleep, but it isn't easy because I'm always thinking of her."

A year ago today it became apparent that the 21-year-old was not coming home from a night on the town. Since then, the family's fears about

foul play have grown. Now police are convinced too.

Their focus, they say, is her husband.

Viridiana finished an evening waitress shift at La Nortena, a restaurant on Rivers Avenue in North Charleston. She stopped by the Dunlap Street apartment she shared with her mother, sister and two sons. Then she left around 11 p.m., to go out with friends.

Cuevas received text messages from her sister's phone between 1 and 2 a.m.

The family doesn't think she sent them. It was out of character for her to text, rather than to call, and the messages didn't make much sense.

One mentioned a friend named Miguel, a name they didn't recognize, and the next one, six minutes later, stated that she had problems and was headed to Mexico, her native country.

They never saw her again.

While relatives suspected foul play from the beginning, police initially considered it a missing-persons case. Though no arrests have been made, police investigators last week identified a suspect publicly for the first time: her husband, Jorge.

"We've gotten phone records, we've gotten bank records," said Detective David Watson, a North Charleston police investigator. "We've got a lot of circumstantial evidence against the husband."

But no charge.

During a phone interview last year, Jorge Maldonado said he resented implications that he had something to do with his wife's disappearance. He said he too was worried about her.

Jorge Moldonado, 22, could not be reached for comment last week. Previous phone numbers were disconnected or out of service. Attorneys in the child-custody case said he moved in August to the Dominican Republic, his native country.

His parents and his 3-year-old son also moved there from the Charleston area this year.

Viridiana had grown up in Santiago, Colima, on Mexico's Pacific coast. She arrived in the U.S. about eight years ago and stayed briefly in Los Angeles before joining family in South Carolina.

Her family said she met her future husband in North Charleston about five years ago. They appreciated his intelligence and quick wit. They also liked the fact that he didn't drink.

Together, the couple had a son, Jorge Luis Maldonado Jr. She had another son, Alex, from a previous relationship.

The couple moved with the children to Washington state while he was stationed with the Army at Fort Lewis, near Tacoma. While out West, their relationship deteriorated.

Her family described her husband as controlling. They said he wouldn't give her money to buy groceries. Things got so bad that she went to stay in a women's shelter for three months last year.

Each made domestic-violence complaints against the other, though both cases were dismissed.

In September she returned to South Carolina to live with her sister and mother in North Charleston. The following month, she disappeared.

Two weeks later, Jorge Maldonado took his son from Viridiana's mother. They went back to Washington until his discharge from the Army in November. Then he moved back across the country, to Goose Creek.

In December he told police he was in Washington state when his wife disappeared, but police said they had evidence that he drove to South Carolina at that very time. When confronted, they said, his demeanor changed.

"He didn't have any good answers for our questions," said Watson, the North Charleston investigator. "Once we presented him with that information, he became very scared. He actually ended the interview, saying he had to be at work."

Police in Fairview Heights, Ill., reported questioning him in a motel parking lot on Oct. 11. He told them he was traveling to Washington state from his home in South Carolina.

Cell phone records showed calls progressing in the other direction, south from Chicago to Charleston, through Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina.

Detectives also learned that the couple spoke by phone the same day she disappeared, Watson said. Jorge Maldonado told detectives that someone else must have had his car and cellular phone. He said he could not remember whether he loaned them to anyone.

After Viridiana's disappearance, police found the car Jorge had been driving at an Olympia, Wash., car dealership, where he had traded it in. Authorities searched it but didn't find anything out of the ordinary, Watson said.

Ninth Circuit Solicitor Scarlett Wilson said her office has offered police guidance on the case, but declined to comment on specifics.

Howie Comen, a local private investigator working with Viridiana's family, said he's positive that members of the public have information that could help solve the case.

"Somebody has to come forward at this point," Comen said. "If they're afraid, they need to come forward. Just tell us where to go, and we'll go there."

The custody battle over the 3-year-old son continues in Berkeley County Family Court. A Nov. 7 hearing in Moncks Corner could determine whether Viridiana's mother gets visitation or full custody of her younger grandson.

Jorge Maldonado's attorney said his client will be there.

"He has to come up because he's been ordered to produce the child," Tommy Bolus said. "He told me he would."

He said his client isn't trying to hide and that he is a naturalized U.S. citizen who receives veterans' disability benefits. His parents own several houses in the Caribbean nation, he said, and he lives with them on a family compound.

Outwardly, Viri's mother, Lilia Michel Guerrero, appears focused when talking about the custody battle. But she's always thinking about her missing daughter. The ordeal has turned her into two separate people — calm on the outside, but suffering inside.

Michel points at her head and says, through sobs, "In every moment, she's here."