Mariah Stewart - Last Words

“This is your chance, now, Colleen. If there’s anything you want to tell your parents, your brother, your sister, you’ll want to do it now.”

There was a sound she couldn’t make out in the background, then, “That wasn’t nice. I’m giving you an opportunity to leave something behind that might comfort your family.”

“Momma, Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…I never thought he’d…” Then sobs.

“Is that all? This is your last chance, Colleen. No words of wisdom for your sweet little sister?”

“Fry in hell, you disgusting degenerate psychopathic pig…”

Mia’s hands were shaking. She stopped the tape and sat in silence, tears welling.

Colleen Preston’s sobbing plea spoke directly to Mia’s own conscience. It spoke of that moment of recognition that there would be no second chance to make this right, no way to turn back the clock to that moment she’d somehow ended up in this nightmare. Mia knew that Colleen had wept not for herself, but for her parents, and the unspeakable pain her death would cause them. She’d wept because she knew that the loss of her life, her suffering, would bring infinite grief and sadness to those who loved her.

“It’s all about expectations,” Mia said softly. “Your parents expect certain things of you. In your case, your parents expected you to outlive them.”

Colleen must have felt that she had placed herself in harms way. I didn’t realize…I never thought he …

Realize what? That this person you maybe knew-this he you perhaps trusted, was a raging maniac? That by befriending this person or maybe by merely speaking to him, making eye contact with him, stopping to answer a question for him-somehow you left yourself open for him to abduct you? Torture you? Take your life?

If something bad happens because we don’t realize the consequences, are we just as culpable?

Momma, Daddy, I’m sorry …

Mia could relate. How many times over the past two years had she whispered those same words?

“You’re going to have to be the little mother now,” an uncle had told the seven-year-old Mia on the day her mother was buried. “You’re the only girl in the family, you’re going to have to keep your brothers in line, just like your mother did.”

Yeah, well, we all know how that turned out, don’t we? If I’d been anything like Mom, I’d have known something was wrong. I’d have seen it coming. …

But I wasn’t like her, and I never saw what surely she would have seen. Dylan, Missy, even Brendan-they’d all still be alive if I had. None of that crazy shit would have happened.

I just wasn’t big enough to fill her shoes .

Mia tossed back what was left of the wine in the glass.

The phone rang, a lightning bolt of sound that jolted Mia out of her trance. She cleared her throat, hoping to clear her head at the same time, and picked up the phone after checking the caller ID.

“Annie, hi.”

“Hey, Mia. Sorry to call so late, I should have looked at the clock before I dialed. I was speaking with John about a case and he asked me to give you a call when we finished. He said you called him earlier, about a case you wanted to discuss with me?” Anne Marie McCall, one of the Bureau’s most respected profilers, was Mia’s first choice to work on this case.

“Right, I did. I have this case over on the Eastern Shore, maybe you heard about it? The killer is grabbing these girls off the street…maybe not off the street, we don’t know where he’s getting them or how, but he keeps them someplace and rapes them. At least we know the first one was raped repeatedly; the second one, she was just pretty much mush-”

“Whoa, Mia, slow down. You’re not making any sense,” Annie said. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Mia’s voice cracked. “It’s just so sad, Annie, and I thought maybe I could do the profiler thing, but not this case. Not this time. It’s too complicated. The killer’s too smart and if we screw up, another young girl is going to die. Maybe another one already has because we don’t have a clue-”

Annie interrupted, asking quietly, “Mia, are you all right?”

“Well, yeah, I’m fine, but these two vics we have…Annie, if you saw what he did to them…”

“Mia, what’s going on?” Annie hesitated for a moment. “It isn’t like you to fall apart like this.”

“I’ve never seen a case like this.”

“You’ve seen plenty of hard-core stuff over the years. I’ve worked with you on other cases.”

“Not like this,” Mia protested. “I’ve never seen anything this evil.”

“Mia, I have to ask…Have you been drinking?”

“I just had a little wine, while I was reading through the file.”

“How much?”

“Just a little, really.” Mia picked up the bottle and was surprised to find it was almost empty. No wonder her head was spinning and her focus was off. She took a deep breath. “I guess I didn’t eat as much as I should have today. I missed lunch, I missed dinner, then tried to snack on salsa and crackers, and I opened a bottle of wine to have while I was munching. I guess I lost track.”

“You do this often?”

“Of course not.” Mia forced herself not to snap. “I just got home late, and I was working my way through this file and just not paying attention. It’s all so sad, Annie. This guy is a demon. He’s a monster. This is one of the worst things I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, tell me what you know.”

Mia stumbled through the case, unaware of how she was ambling this way and that. Finally, she said, “And he leaves these tapes inside the plastic wrap, all wrapped up inside with their bodies. You hear him talking to her, you hear his voice. And you hear her, Annie, she’s crying and telling her mother and father how sorry she is…”

“I see,” Annie said softly.

“Here, I’ll play it for you-”

“No, no, Mia, don’t put the tape on. Leave it for now. Close up the file and go to bed; you sound tired. We’ll listen to the tape when I get there.”

“I hate to ask you, it’s the weekend.”

“It’s okay. Evan’s working both days anyway. I’ll be there by afternoon so we can sit down and go over the case together.”

“Okay.” In spite of herself, Mia felt tears begin to well up again. “Maybe by two? I’ll need to tell Beck.”

“Who’s Beck?”

“He’s the chief of police in St. Dennis. I think he might be a very interesting man. Cute, in a hard-cop, all-business sort of way. Not that I’m interested in that type.”

“Of course not. Nothing appealing about cute, interesting, hard-edged cops who do their job.”

“Ha. You should know.”

“I do know. Now, do us both a favor. Don’t play that tape again. Just put everything in your briefcase and go to bed, all right? You need some sleep. And put the wine away for tonight, hear?”

I put it away, all right.

“Sure. Thanks, Annie.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Now go to bed.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Mia hung up the phone and slipped it into her bag. She closed the file and put it into her briefcase and snapped the lid. Took everything back into the kitchen. Set the plate with the remaining crackers on the counter and the empty wine bottle on the floor next to the trash can. Locked the back door and turned off the lights. She wouldn’t listen to the tape again, as she promised Annie.

She wouldn’t need to play it again to hear that tormented voice. It was there, in her head, amid the jumble of her own pleas for forgiveness.

Momma and Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry …