As cadaver dogs scoured the wooded properties tied to the baffling vanishing of two young Nova Scotia siblings, the stepfather of the missing children delivered a striking declaration that has fueled public doubt and intensified media glare on the ongoing investigation.

Daniel Martell, stepfather to 6-year-old Lilly Sullivan and 4-year-old Jack Sullivan, who disappeared from their rural home in Lansdowne Station on May 2, 2025, spoke out in a mid-October interview amid the conclusion of a week-long search by specialized human remains detection dogs. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) announced on October 9 that the canine teams, deployed starting September 22, had combed the family’s property, surrounding forests, and even the interior of their residence without uncovering any human remains. Yet, it was Martell’s preemptive assurance—”I know 100% that the cadaver dogs won’t find anything near the property area”—that echoed through viral clips and social media, drawing accusations of overconfidence from online sleuths and concerned observers.

The siblings’ mother, Malehya Brooks-Murray, placed the frantic 911 call that evening, reporting the children had wandered off from their home in the tight-knit Pictou County community, roughly 140 kilometers northeast of Halifax. The wooded, sparsely populated area—dotted with dense forests and rural backroads—quickly became a focal point for exhaustive searches. Initial efforts, launched immediately after the report, mobilized ground teams, volunteers, and tracking dogs trained to detect live scents or recent deaths, covering over 8.5 square kilometers of rugged terrain. Drones buzzed overhead, divers probed nearby waterways, and helicopters scanned from above, but no trace emerged—not a shoe, a toy, or a scrap of clothing.

By late August, whispers grew about the absence of cadaver dogs, prompting questions from family and the public alike. The children’s grandmother, Diane Tremblay, publicly lamented the delay in a September statement, insisting, “This should have happened months ago—we need answers, not excuses.” Martell himself had advocated for their use earlier, telling reporters in June that he wanted the specialized hounds brought in to “search the woods thoroughly.” RCMP Cpl. Guillaume Tremblay clarified that prior canine deployments focused on live-person detection, but with no leads after four months, the shift to remains-specific dogs was a logical escalation. “We’re at the stage where we must consider if something was missed,” he said during a September 19 press briefing.

The dogs—highly trained from the RCMP’s Police Dog Service Training Centre in Innisfail, Alberta—arrived with handlers skilled in detecting decomposition odors buried underground, submerged in water, or masked in ashes. Staff Sgt. Stephen Pike, a veteran trainer, emphasized their 90-95 percent accuracy rate in controlled tests, noting they can pinpoint scents as faint as parts per trillion. For a week, the teams methodically swept the Sullivan-Martell property, a modest home amid towering pines, and extended into adjacent fields and trails. Brooks-Murray and Martell cooperated fully, vacating the premises during interior sweeps, but tension simmered. Martell’s October 8 interview with CTV News, aired the day after the RCMP’s no-remains update, captured the moment that’s now dissected frame-by-frame: “I’m relieved, but I knew it all along. Nothing’s there because nothing happened here.”

That certainty struck a nerve. On Reddit’s r/NovaScotia thread, a post titled “Cadaver dogs to search for Jack and Lilly” amassed over 100 upvotes and dozens of comments, with users zeroing in on Martell’s words. “If you’re innocent, why so sure? What if a stranger dumped them nearby?” one commenter wrote, echoing a sentiment rippling across X (formerly Twitter), where #FindLillyAndJack trended sporadically. Hashtags like #StepdadSuspicion surfaced alongside memes juxtaposing Martell’s calm demeanor with clips from crime dramas. Fox News Digital picked up the thread in a October 10 segment, interviewing a retired FBI profiler who called it “a red flag of premature exoneration,” while cautioning against vigilante judgments.

The case’s peculiarities amplify the scrutiny. Court documents unsealed in June, obtained via search warrants, reveal RCMP polygraph tests administered to Brooks-Murray and Martell shortly after the disappearance. Martell recounted his nerves during the exam—”That was the first question: Did you hurt the kids?”—but both passed, with investigators noting “no indications of deception.” A child’s blanket and a suspicious boot print found near the home were analyzed, yielding no matches to known persons. Surveillance footage from May 1 shows the family at a local Dollarama store, the last confirmed sighting outside the home. A neighbor’s vague report of seeing two small figures approaching an older tan sedan that morning remains unverified, spurring theories of abduction by a stranger.

RCMP Insp. Patricia McCamon, leading the probe involving nearly a dozen units, stressed in the October announcement that “nothing definitive supports the children are deceased,” but the lack of closure has bred frustration. “There’s legitimate public concern about how two kids vanish like this,” she acknowledged, renewing pleas for tips via Crime Stoppers. The investigation, codenamed Project Spectrum, has ballooned to include forensic anthropologists, digital forensics experts sifting phone records, and international liaisons with U.S. agencies, given cross-border theories. Costs have topped $2 million, funded by federal grants, with volunteers still fielding tips as recent as last week.

Family dynamics add layers. Brooks-Murray, 28, and Martell, 32—a mill worker with no prior record—had been together two years, blending families in the insular Lansdowne community of under 200 souls. Lilly and Jack, siblings from Brooks-Murray’s previous relationship, were described by neighbors as “energetic and inseparable,” often playing in the yard. Tremblay, the maternal grandmother, has defended her daughter publicly, blasting online trolls in a September Facebook post: “Stop accusing—help find them.” Yet, whispers persist about domestic strains; a June CBC report detailed unconfirmed reports of heated arguments heard pre-disappearance.

Experts weigh in on the dog’s null result with measured tones. Dr. Arpad Vass, a forensic scent researcher at Oak Ridge National Laboratory, told the New York Post that cadaver dogs excel in open areas but can falter in cluttered homes or if remains are deeply buried or decomposed beyond detection. “False negatives happen—about 5-10 percent in field conditions,” he noted. Pike concurred, adding the dogs could return if new intel warrants. For now, it buys the family breathing room, but Martell’s reaction lingers like an unanswered echo.

Public fascination mirrors cases like the 2019 Idaho kids’ tragedy or Madeleine McCann’s endless saga, where family statements become lightning rods. A YouTube compilation titled “Missing Children’s Stepfather Reacts to Cadaver Dog Search” has surpassed 1.2 million views, blending news clips with armchair analysis. On X, semantic searches for “Lilly Jack stepfather dogs” yield posts blending empathy—”Praying for closure”—with skepticism: “His vibe is off. 100% sure? Sketchy.”

As autumn leaves blanket the search zones, hope flickers amid the chill. Martell, in his latest statement, pivoted to pleas: “We just want them home—alive or not.” RCMP vows persistence, with plans for underwater drones and ground-penetrating radar next. For a nation hooked on the heartbreak, Martell’s words aren’t just a reaction—they’re a riddle, underscoring how absence amplifies every gesture in the quest for truth.

Yet, in quiet moments, Tremblay clings to optimism: “They’re out there, hiding like little foxes.” Whether Martell’s assurance proves prescient or presciently damning, the dogs’ silence ensures the story endures, a stark reminder that in missing persons probes, certainty is the scarcest commodity.