RCMP’s Dramatic Operation to Detain Darren Geddes Ignites Fresh Hope and Mystery in the Vanishing of Lilly and Jack Sullivan

January 5, 2026 – The Royal Canadian Mounted Police have launched a high-risk maneuver to bring in Darren Geddes, a distant family member whose name has hovered on the fringes of the investigation into the heartbreaking disappearance of six-year-old Lilly Sullivan and her four-year-old brother Jack. Insiders describe the move as the culmination of months of painstaking work, with detectives finally “closing the circle” around a figure who has long raised eyebrows. But the abrupt escalation – coming eight months after the children vanished without a trace – has sparked intense speculation: What pivotal piece of evidence surfaced in recent weeks? Did a tipster come forward with damning details, or has forensic analysis finally yielded a breakthrough?

The saga began on the morning of May 2, 2025, in the quiet rural hamlet of Lansdowne Station, Pictou County, Nova Scotia. Nestled along Gairloch Road, the family’s modest home is encircled by impenetrable woods, jagged ravines, and tangled underbrush – a landscape that feels worlds away from civilization. Lilly, a bright-eyed girl with shoulder-length light brown hair, bangs framing her face, and a fondness for all things pink, was last described as possibly wearing a pink sweater, pants, and boots. Her little brother Jack, with his short blondish hair and infectious energy, was known for his beloved blue dinosaur boots that he rarely took off.

30 Mins Ago! RCMP To Arrest Darren Gaddes In Lilly & Jack Case- Shocking  Evidence Revealed - YouTube

Their mother, Malehya Brooks-Murray, reported them missing just after 10 a.m., telling emergency operators that the siblings had slipped out of the house while she and her partner, stepfather Daniel Martell, were napping with their infant sibling. The children had been kept home from school the previous day due to Lilly’s cough, and the family insisted they were playing nearby before vanishing. What followed was one of the largest search operations in Nova Scotia’s history: hundreds of volunteers, ground search and rescue teams from multiple provinces, K9 units including cadaver dogs, thermal-imaging drones, helicopters, and even specialized heavy urban search and rescue crews. Wells were probed, septic systems inspected, rivers dragged, and vast swaths of forest grid-searched. Yet, astonishingly, not a single clue emerged – no discarded clothing, no tiny footprints leading into the trees, no echoes of childish laughter or cries for help.

As the physical hunt wound down by early May, with RCMP announcing a scale-back due to no confirmed sightings and grim assessments of survival odds in the harsh terrain, the focus shifted to a major crimes probe. The Northeast Nova Major Crime Unit took the lead, bolstered by experts from New Brunswick, Ontario, the National Centre for Missing Persons and Exploited Children, and the Canadian Centre for Child Protection. Polygraphs were administered to those closest to the children. Daniel Martell publicly affirmed he passed his, vowing complete cooperation. The biological father, Cody Sullivan, estranged and living elsewhere, also underwent testing and was cleared.

Court documents unsealed in the fall revealed tantalizing fragments: pieces of a pink blanket linked to Lilly found in trash, one near the property and another further afield, though sniffer dogs picked up no scents. Witnesses reported hearing a vehicle idling and moving in the dead of night before the disappearance, but surveillance reviews found nothing. Tips poured in – over 300 reviewed – including fleeting reports of the children possibly with relatives or even across provincial lines. A $150,000 reward from the Nova Scotia government hangs unclaimed, urging anyone with “investigative value” information to step forward.

Amid this vacuum of answers, family dynamics came under scrutiny. Paternal grandmother Belynda Gray has spoken openly of her anguish, clinging to fading hope while preparing for the worst. Maternal relatives have been more guarded, with police advising against media contact early on. And then there’s Darren Geddes – sometimes spelled Darin in reports – a relative on the mother’s side whose interactions with investigators have been anything but straightforward.

Documents show Geddes was interviewed in late May 2025, where he grew “confrontational and evasive,” demanding details from police rather than providing them. He floated theories implicating others, posted suggestive comments online under aliases, and even hinted he might know more about the children’s fate. By June, Brooks-Murray herself handed over a recorded phone conversation between Geddes and her grandmother Patti Pearson, capturing what police described as potentially relevant exchanges. Geddes claimed knowledge but offered no substance, leading detectives to view him as a person of interest whose behavior warranted deeper digging.

Months dragged on with agonizing slowness. Vigils marked Jack’s fifth birthday in October, candlelight flickering against the chill of unresolved grief. Independent searches by Ontario-based groups like Please Bring Me Home scoured riverbanks in November, unearthing items like a child’s T-shirt and tricycle – only for RCMP to deem them unrelated. Staff Sergeant Rob McCamon, acting head of Major Crimes, confessed in late 2025 interviews that the case kept him awake nights, calling it “extremely rare” in his decades of service. Yet he expressed confidence: leads were being pursued, areas re-examined, behavioral analysis applied.

Now, on this frigid January day, the RCMP’s bold action against Geddes has reignited public fascination. Sources suggest the operation involved coordinated teams, perhaps surveillance and a swift takedown to prevent flight or evidence tampering. Questions swirl: Was it a fresh witness statement tying Geddes to the property that night? Digital forensics from phones or social media? Or retested evidence finally pointing a finger?

The implications are profound. If Geddes holds the key, could this unlock the children’s whereabouts – alive, as families desperately pray, or providing the closure no one wants but many fear? The rural community of Lansdowne Station, already scarred by rumors and division, braces for revelations. Online forums buzz with timelines, theories, and debates over family statements. National media, which has covered every twist since May, gears up for what could be the turning point.

For the grandparents – Gray on one side, voices like step-grandmother Janie Mackenzie on the other – the pain is visceral. Gray has shared photos of happier times: first school days, innocent smiles. Mackenzie has walked reporters through the property, recounting hearing the children’s voices that morning before silence fell. Both sides yearn for truth, even if it shatters.

As the investigation evolves under the Missing Persons Act – not yet classified as criminal, per official statements – the RCMP urges continued tips. Anonymous lines remain open. The reward stands.

In a nation gripped by this enigma, the apprehension of Darren Geddes feels like the first real crack in an impenetrable wall. What secrets does he carry? Will his detention force confessions, recover evidence, or lead searchers back to those dense woods? For Lilly and Jack, time is the cruelest enemy. But today, with the net tightening, a flicker of possibility emerges from the shadows. The country watches, breathes held, hoping against hope for answers – and, miraculously, for the safe return of two little souls lost in the wilderness.