In the quiet suburbs of Reading, Pennsylvania—a city often celebrated for its rich industrial history and vibrant multicultural fabric—a nightmare unfolded that has left an entire community reeling. The discovery of 31-year-old Geraldina Peguero-Mancebo and her 1-year-old son, Jeyden Junior Peguero, lifeless in a remote Berks County field has unearthed a tale of jealousy, betrayal, and unimaginable violence. What began as a routine missing persons report on September 12, 2025, spiraled into a triple homicide investigation, with new details revealing a chilling confession from a 61-year-old suspect who allegedly orchestrated the deaths of an entire young family. As of October 23, 2025, the case continues to grip the nation, prompting soul-searching questions about domestic violence, immigrant struggles, and the fragility of the American Dream.

This tragedy strikes at the heart of Reading’s diverse population, where over 60% of residents are Hispanic or Latino, many hailing from the Dominican Republic like the Peguero-Mancebo family. Geraldina, a devoted mother who had arrived in the U.S. just two years prior in pursuit of a better life, embodied the resilience of countless immigrants chasing opportunity in Berks County. Her story, pieced together from family interviews, police affidavits, and court documents, paints a portrait of a woman full of love, ambition, and quiet strength—until a twisted obsession shattered it all.

Geraldina Peguero-Mancebo was born in the sun-drenched hills of the Dominican Republic, where family ties run deeper than roots in fertile soil. At 29, she made the harrowing decision to uproot her life, leaving behind extended relatives to join her husband, Junior Cabrera-Colon, in Pennsylvania. The couple, married for over a decade, dreamed of stability for their four children. Junior, 31, worked odd jobs in construction, his calloused hands a testament to his tireless drive to provide. Geraldina, with her warm smile and infectious laugh, took on part-time cleaning work while nurturing their youngest, Jeyden, a cherubic toddler whose giggles could light up the dimmest room. Their three older children—ages 13, 10, and 8—remained in the Dominican Republic, cared for by grandparents, as the parents saved to bring them stateside. “Geraldina was the glue,” her cousin Heinel Medrano told reporters in a voice choked with emotion. “She FaceTimed the kids every night, telling them stories of snow in Pennsylvania and promising they’d all be together soon.”

The family’s modest apartment on the 100 block of North 5th Street in Reading became a sanctuary of sorts. It was here, in the heart of the city’s Penn Street neighborhood—alive with bodegas, salsa music spilling from open windows, and the aroma of mangu con los tres golpes—that they built their new chapter. Neighbors recall Geraldina pushing Jeyden’s stroller through Callowhill Park, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail, chatting animatedly about her plans to enroll in English classes at Reading Area Community College. “She was always helping someone,” said Maria Gonzalez, a fellow Dominican immigrant who lived two doors down. “If your kid was sick, she’d bring homemade sancocho. Geraldina made you feel like family, even if you weren’t blood.” Junior, meanwhile, was the steady provider, coaching informal soccer games with local youth and dreaming of starting a small landscaping business. Their life, though modest, hummed with the simple joys: weekend barbecues, church on Sundays at Iglesia Pentecostal, and Jeyden’s first wobbly steps across the living room floor.

But beneath this idyllic surface lurked shadows. Enter Jose Luis Rodriguez, a 61-year-old Reading resident whose path crossed the family’s through a seemingly innocuous arrangement. Rodriguez, a retired maintenance worker with a history of minor brushes with the law, co-signed the lease for the family’s apartment—a gesture that, in hindsight, bound him too closely to their world. Court documents reveal he had developed an obsessive infatuation with Geraldina, showering her with unsolicited gifts and professions of love. “He wanted her to leave Junior for him,” Berks County District Attorney John Adams explained during a somber press conference on September 29. “When she refused, it ignited a rage that consumed everything.”

The unraveling began on the evening of September 12, 2025, around 8:30 p.m. Rodriguez, according to his own chilling confession, picked up Geraldina and Jeyden from outside their apartment in his weathered blue sedan. What Geraldina believed was a quick errand to a nearby store turned into her final ride. Driving toward the outskirts of Reading, into the rural expanse of Ontelaunee Township, Rodriguez allegedly confronted her about their “relationship.” When she rebuffed him—fiercely defending her marriage and motherhood—he snapped. In a grassy field off East Huller Lane, he shot her once in the head, the crack of the gunshot echoing like thunder in the still night. Jeyden, strapped in his car seat, wailed in terror. Rodriguez, in a act of cold-blooded cruelty, carried the boy to a nearby marshy shoreline, some 150 yards away, and hurled him face-down into the thick mud and shallow water. “The defendant confirmed that Jeyden was alive when he threw him,” DA Adams revealed, his voice steady but eyes betraying the horror. An autopsy later confirmed the toddler’s death by freshwater drowning, with mud caked in his tiny lungs—a detail that has haunted investigators and family alike.

Rodriguez then returned to Reading, his mind a whirlwind of paranoia. The next morning, September 13, he arranged to meet Junior Cabrera-Colon on the 1500 block of Pear Street, luring him with a pretext about Geraldina’s whereabouts. The two men, once cordial roommates, erupted into a heated argument over Rodriguez’s advances. According to police affidavits, Junior pulled a gun in self-defense during the scuffle, but it was knocked away. Rodriguez seized it, firing a single shot into the back of Junior’s head. He dragged the body to the brush near Baer Park along River Road, concealing it amid overgrown weeds just yards from a basketball court where children played hours earlier. At 6:30 a.m., a patrolling Reading police officer stumbled upon the scene, mistaking the form for a homeless sleeper until the blood pooled unnervingly.

The discovery ignited a frantic search. Junior’s body was identified swiftly through fingerprints, but the absence of Geraldina and Jeyden raised immediate alarms. Family members, piecing together frantic phone calls, reported them missing to Reading Police that same day. An Endangered Missing Persons Alert blasted across Pennsylvania, describing Geraldina—5’4″, 140 pounds, with long brown hair—and her wide-eyed son. “We knew something was wrong,” Medrano recounted, tears streaming. “Geraldina never missed a call home. She was our rock.” Flyers emblazoned with their photos—Geraldina cradling Jeyden at a family picnic—plastered lampposts from Penn Street to the Pagoda overlook, while social media erupted with #JusticeForGeraldina and #FindJeyden.

Investigators moved with urgency. The Reading Police Department’s Homicide Unit, in tandem with Berks County Detectives, canvassed the apartment complex. Neighbors whispered of Rodriguez’s frequent visits, his lingering stares. Cell phone pings placed his vehicle near the Ontelaunee field on the 12th, and dashcam footage from a nearby gas station captured his sedan returning bloodied and mud-streaked. By September 18, Rodriguez was in custody for Junior’s murder, confessing after hours of interrogation. “It was self-defense,” he claimed initially, but cracks formed under pressure. The breakthrough came post-confession: a tip led searchers back to East Huller Lane on September 19, where Geraldina’s body lay partially concealed under brush, her purse and passport discarded nearby. The next day, September 20, a cadaver dog alerted to the marsh, unearthing Jeyden’s tiny form, partially submerged in muck, his blue onesie matted with sediment.

Autopsies at Tower Health Reading Hospital, conducted on September 22, confirmed the unthinkable: all three deaths were homicides. Geraldina and Junior succumbed to gunshot wounds; Jeyden to drowning. Rodriguez, facing mounting evidence—including ballistics matching the bullets to Junior’s gun—expanded his confession on September 25. “She wouldn’t leave him,” he allegedly told detectives, his words laced with delusion. “I did it for us.” He detailed discarding Geraldina’s belongings in a dumpster behind a Reading strip mall, items recovered intact, her phone’s last text a loving goodnight to Junior. By September 29, additional charges landed: two more counts of first-degree murder, abuse of corpse, and firearms violations. Rodriguez sits in Berks County Prison without bail, his preliminary hearing set for November 15.

New details emerging in October have deepened the wound. Forensic analysis revealed Rodriguez had stalked Geraldina for months, hacking her social media to monitor her posts—innocent snapshots of Jeyden’s milestones now twisted into evidence. A hidden journal found in his home chronicled his fantasies, entries dated back to June scrawling, “She’s mine soon.” Family members disclosed prior warnings: Geraldina had confided in Medrano about Rodriguez’s “creepy” advances, even changing her route home to avoid him. “We urged her to report him,” Medrano said, guilt etching her face. “But she didn’t want drama. She just wanted peace for her babies.”

The community’s response has been a beacon amid the darkness. Vigils lit up Baer Park on September 27, hundreds gathering with candles and Dominican flags, chanting prayers in Spanish and English. A GoFundMe launched by Medrano has surpassed $75,000, earmarked for repatriating the older children and funding their education. “They lost their parents, their future,” the page reads poignantly. “Help us plant seeds of hope.” Local leaders, including Reading Mayor Eddie Moralez, addressed the crowd: “This evil doesn’t define us. It unites us against violence, especially toward women and children.” Nonprofits like the Latina Women’s Resource Center offered free counseling, while churches hosted potlucks blending mangú with pierogies—a fusion mirroring Reading’s spirit.

Yet, beneath the solidarity, anger simmers. Advocates decry systemic failures: Why no restraining order? Why did co-signing entwine a predator so deeply? Berks County’s domestic violence hotline logged a 30% spike post-tragedy, women sharing stories of unchecked obsession. “Geraldina’s death is a wake-up call,” said activist Sofia Ramirez of the YWCA Reading. “Immigrant women fear deportation, so they stay silent. We need culturally sensitive support, now.” Pennsylvania lawmakers, spurred by the case, fast-tracked bills for expanded stalking laws and lease protections against abusive co-signers.

As October’s chill settles over Ontelaunee Township, the field where Geraldina and Jeyden perished transforms into a makeshift memorial. Teddy bears, wilted roses, and a hand-painted sign—”Ángeles en el Cielo”—dot the grass, visited daily by mourners. Medrano, now guardian proxy for the orphaned siblings, wires funds for their flight home. “The oldest, a 13-year-old boy, drew a picture of his parents as superheroes,” she shares softly. “He says they’ll watch over him. How do you heal a broken dream?”

The investigation presses on, with forensics tying loose ends: Rodriguez’s DNA on Jeyden’s clothing, tire tracks matching his sedan. DA Adams vows a swift trial: “This monster will face justice for every tear shed.” But for Reading, the scars linger—a reminder that behind closed doors, love can curdle into lethality. Geraldina’s final Instagram post, a selfie with Jeyden captioned “Mi vida completa” (My complete life), haunts followers. In her honor, the community pledges vigilance, transforming grief into guardianship.

This story isn’t just headlines; it’s a human mosaic of migration, motherhood, and malice. As the leaves turn crimson in Berks County, one truth endures: in the face of horror, resilience blooms. Geraldina, Junior, and little Jeyden—gone too soon, but etched eternally in the hearts they touched. Their legacy? A call to cherish the vulnerable, expose the shadows, and build a world where dreams don’t drown in mud.