Mariah Stewart - Last Look

Aubrey Randall lay on the hospital bed, the head of which was slightly elevated. In spite of the day’s heat, a blanket was pulled up to her chin. On her right sat her sister, Natalie, and at the foot of the bed stood Paula Rose, who appeared to be in the middle of saying something when she glanced up and saw Dorsey and Andrew in the doorway.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” she said to Dorsey. “Didn’t that reporter on the news last night say something about it being a conflict of interest, you working on Shannon ’s case?”

“He was referring to the old case-which she wasn’t assigned to. The case we’re here to talk about, Shannon ’s murder, has nothing to do with Dorsey’s father,” Andrew responded.

“How’s that going?” Paula Rose asked. “Any progress on finding her killer?”

Dorsey just smiled, then turned her attention to Aubrey. “How are you feeling?”

Aubrey wet her lips slowly. “I’ve felt better.”

“Why the pills, Aubrey?” Dorsey stood next to the bed.

Before Aubrey could respond, Paula Rose said, “She just can’t cope with everything that’s happened. She’s simply collapsing under the stress of having Shannon turn up dead, after all these years.”

Dorsey pulled over a chair and sat across the bed from Natalie. “How are your parents taking this?”

“We haven’t told them. Aubrey’s been admitted under a different name to keep it from the press,” Natalie told her.

“Well, I suggest you get used to it. The press, that is. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Dorsey looked from the woman in the bed to her two sisters. “So. Which one of you answered the phone when Shannon called a month or so ago?”

The silence was thick enough to slice.

Andrew stepped farther into the room and said, “She called your parent’s home, like she’s been doing all along. She hadn’t intended to speak, but this time, she was caught off guard. She was expecting your mother to answer. She didn’t mean to speak your name, but she did. And you recognized her voice. What was it that gave her away? What had she said?”

“What makes you think she called the house?” Paula Rose asked, a challenge in her tone.

Andrew tapped Dorsey on the shoulder, and from her bag she pulled out the diary and waved it slightly.

“What is that?” Natalie asked.

“I think you know that it’s Shannon ’s diary.” Dorsey nodded.

“Where did you find it?” Aubrey asked.

“Her roommate had it. She thought it might be helpful in solving the case,” Dorsey replied.

“May I see that?” Natalie reached for it, but Dorsey dropped it into the bag saying, “Sorry, but it’s evidence.”

“So I ask once again. Who answered the phone the day Shannon called?” Andrew studied the faces of the sisters.

“It was me.” Aubrey’s voice was weak and breathy. “I answered the phone.”

“Shut up, Aubrey,” Paula Rose snapped. She turned to Andrew. “Aubrey isn’t herself, she’s coming out of a near coma. I’m afraid she’s very susceptible to suggestion right now. She’s liable to say just about anything.”

“Paula Rose, stop it.” Aubrey attempted to sit up. “Just…stop.”

“Careful, Aubrey,” Natalie cautioned her. “My sister really is quite ill, Agent Shields. She could have died. I don’t think this is the time or the place for this.”

“It’s okay, Nat,” Aubrey told her. She turned to Paula Rose and said, “It’s no use. I just can’t carry this pain around inside me anymore.”

“Aubrey, we’re all in pain over Shannon.” Paula Rose went to her sister’s bedside and took her hand.

“Please.” Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut. “Just stop pretending it didn’t happen. I can’t pretend, Paula Rose.”

“Aubrey.” Paula Rose took her sister’s chin in her hand and forced her to look into her eyes. “Shut. Up.”

“No,” Aubrey whispered. “I’m really sorry, honey, but I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Whose idea was it to meet with Shannon?” Dorsey cut in, smelling a confession.

“Mine,” Aubrey told her. “I couldn’t believe it was really her. I drove down to Deptford one day by myself, to meet her for lunch in this little restaurant. I had to see if it was really her. I just couldn’t believe it. She looked so old, and so sad. I mean, we’re all twenty-four years older, but you always have this image of someone looking just like they did the last time you saw them. I knew she’d look older, but I wasn’t expecting her to look so hard. So tired and worn out.” Aubrey shook her head. “Then when she told me what she’d been doing all those years, the kind of life she’d led, it just broke my heart. My sister, my little Shannon, selling herself on the streets like a common whore.”

“She was a common whore,” Paula Rose told her. “I believe that’s already been established.”

“She could have put it behind her,” Aubrey protested. “She could have come home and started over.”

“And when the story got out about her coming back from the dead, everyone would want to know where she’d been all those years, what she’d been doing.”

“Not necessarily,” Natalie spoke up. “No one needed to know the truth.”

“She was going to tell, Natalie.” Paula Rose snorted. “She said she was going to tell everything. ”

She stared into her oldest sister’s eyes and repeated, “ Everything, Nat. She was going to tell it all.”

Paula Rose held her sister’s gaze for a long time, for as long as it took for that flash of understanding.

“Now, don’t you think that would have brought on an awful lot of uncomfortable moments come election time, Senator ?”

“I could have handled it,” Natalie told her calmly.

“Right. Just the way she ”-Paula Rose jerked her thumb in Aubrey’s direction-“thought she could have handled it when the news teams from the network that carries her show started interviewing some of Shannon’s street pals. Some of her johns.”

The silence returned. Finally, Andrew asked, “Whose gun was it?”

“Daddy’s,” Aubrey told him. “Paula Rose took it from his desk.”

“Aubrey, for the love of God-” Paula Rose growled.

“Strange time to be bringing up God, Paula Rose,” Natalie said very softly.

Aubrey’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I swear to you, I didn’t know she had it. I didn’t know what she was planning to do.”

“Tell us what happened, Aubrey,” Dorsey said.

“Paula Rose said the next time Shannon called, we should make plans to go see her, so I told her we’d drive down, pick her up, and go for a picnic out in the woods, like we used to do when we were kids. We were going to talk about the best way to tell Momma and Daddy she was still alive-we all agreed that if she just showed up at their door, it would be the death of them both. Paula Rose said she had an idea about that, that we could plan it together.”

“So you picked her up and drove someplace where no one could see what you were going to do to her.” Andrew closed the door behind him as Paula Rose appeared to be inching in that direction. He leaned back against the frame, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “When did she realize what you were going to do, Paula Rose? Did she cry? Did Shannon plead for her life? Beg you not to kill her?”

Natalie hid her face in her hands and wept.

“She was going to tell everything. She thought she’d be on some TV show. Larry King or Oprah, maybe. The woman who returned from the dead.” Paula Rose grabbed Natalie’s arm to force her hand from her face. “Do you understand what I’m saying? She was going to tell everything.”