Her Last Word

by Mary Burton

  “Your name does have a tendency to come up.”

  “With whom?”

  “Larry Jenkins.”

  “Yeah, I talked to him last week. He wasn’t helpful. He remembered me and was more interested in making cracks about my high school days. I was as infamous at Saint Mathew’s as Gina was famous.”

  He ran his hand down his red silk tie. “Why did Jennifer leave the river early that night?”

  “She was hammered. She could barely stand up.”

  “Where did she live?”

  “About a half mile from Pony Pasture, not far from Gina. Knew the area like the back of her hand.”

  “Did she see anything? Did she have any new information for you?”

  “No.”

  “How did she get home?”

  “Ashley, her sister, picked her up.”

  “So Ashley was also there?”

  “Ashley dropped her sister off and then later returned to get her. I remember the Ralston family car pulling up. Jennifer said she didn’t remember anything after getting in the car.”

  “And you saw Ashley?”

  “I assumed it was Ashley.” She frowned. “I can’t say for sure, but Jennifer confirmed it was her sister when I interviewed her.”

  “Have you spoken to Ashley since you returned? Did you interview her?”

  “No. I haven’t gotten to her yet.”

  He studied her. “Does this tape include all your interviews?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Honesty was her new policy thanks to AA. She didn’t like it. Old habits died hard. “Because you’re a cop. And I don’t trust cops.”

  “Why not?”

  “Go back and read the case files. Watch my interviews with Detective North. He pretended to be on my side. And then he leaked my name to the press and denied it because I was a minor. My life turned to shit after that.”

  “He leaned on you.”

  “He was certain I knew more than I did. He thought the media would tear the truth out of me.”

  “And?”

  “Can’t get blood out of a turnip.”

  Adler seemed to weigh and measure all her answers. He didn’t trust her either. Smart man. “I would have done the same thing.”

  “When you work out something with Hayward, let me know.”

  “When? You speak as if it’s a done deal.”

  “Detective Adler, you strike me as the kind of guy who moves fast.”

  Not rising to the bait, he asked, “Hayward will get a visit from me before any deal is proposed. Where are you parked?”

  “Up there.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car, again.”

  The words were polite, but his tone made it clear he wasn’t asking but telling. Though she bristled, she fought the urge to argue. He’d said he’d look into it. And, despite her better judgment, she believed him. Acceptance allowed her to ease her white-knuckle grip on control.

  He slowed his pace as he walked her to her car. The afternoon air was soft, and a delicate breeze from the river rustled the budding branches. It could have been a moment easily enjoyed if only they weren’t a half block from a murder scene, he weren’t a cop, and she weren’t paranoid.

  He waited as she opened the door to her car and slid into the seat. She closed the door and quickly turned on the engine while rolling her window down.

  “Whoever did this to Jennifer could be watching,” he said, leaning close to her so only she could hear.

  “Why would anyone be watching? She’s dead.”

  “He was keeping tabs on her.”

  “She had a stalker?”

  “Maybe. This kind of guy gets his rocks off not only following his victim, but also monitoring the cops during an investigation. I suggest you be careful.”

  She’d spent the last fourteen years being careful because she feared the unseen. And she was damn tired of hiding. “I’ll keep it in mind. But I’m making my podcast. I need to make it, now more than ever.”

  “Why?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “You really want to know?”

  “Do I look like I’m being polite?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Whatever happened to Gina sent ripples through so many families. None of us—Jennifer, Erika, or me, our families and friends—were ever the same after she vanished. Time doesn’t heal all wounds.”

  “That’s your only motivation?”

  “You think I’m holding back?”

  “I don’t see the other interview tapes.”

  “When you get Gina’s case file, can I read it?”

  He shook his head, no hints of apology in his expression. “You’re on the wrong side of the blue line.”

  “I’m aware.”

  He patted the top of her car. “In the meantime, suspend your podcast interviews until I can figure out what or if anything links Jennifer’s murder to Gina’s disappearance.”

  Smiling, she shook her head. She wasn’t stopping, and if anything she was more motivated than ever to find Gina. “I’ll take it under consideration, Detective.”

  INTERVIEW FILE #7

  ONCE A LAWMAN, ALWAYS A LAWMAN

  Thursday, February 15, 2018; 11:00 a.m.

  ONCE A LAWMAN, ALWAYS A LAWMAN. The saying is burned into driftwood and hangs over retired missing-persons detective Joshua North’s bed at the Oak Croft Retirement Center. The room is bathed in beige except for a lone bouquet of wilting red, white, and blue balloons in a corner. A piece of untouched chocolate cake, sporting a tilting, unlit candle, sits on the small table beside Detective North’s recliner. It’s his seventy-eighth birthday.

  As he does every day, he insists on shaving and donning his khakis and pressed white shirt that is now his unofficial “uniform.” It’s important he proves to himself he’s the same man who retired from the department thirteen years ago. A year after Gina Mason vanished.

  Time has mellowed some of my anger toward this man. But in full disclosure, I will never forgive what he did. I balance my own slice of cake, trying not to notice his hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. It’s easier to hold on to anger when I picture him taller and stronger. Like the cake, this man had seen better days.

  “Thank you for seeing me.” I steady the dessert plate on my knees.

  I first met North in the emergency room fourteen years ago. I was still intoxicated and so agitated by the trauma of seeing Gina taken, I could barely sit still. When he pushed open the curtain of my examination cubicle, I felt protected. I needed help, and I thought it was him. He found people. He could end this nightmare.

  I could easily underestimate him now, until I look behind the thick silver-rimmed glasses and see sharp blue eyes staring back.

  “I haven’t seen you in a long time. Kaitlin Roe, right?”

  “You remember me.”

  “Your hair is different. A little older, but I remember you and Gina Mason. Her kind of case haunts cops.” His eyes never leave me. “What have you been up to?”

  “College. Film degree. Thought I’d move to LA and make films but was hired by a Dallas PR firm to make commercials. Life got comfortable. Time passed.”

  All true. What I don’t mention are the panic attacks, the drinking, and finally a desperate outreach to AA.

  “Why are you doing this interview?”

  “I want to find Gina. Maybe if someone hears my podcast, they’ll remember something and speak up.”

  “Don’t be so sure everyone’s going to be happy about this project. Politicians, cops, the people who became obsessed with her—none of ’em want you digging up the past.”

  “I couldn’t care less. It’s time.”

  Police searches went on for months after Gina vanished. There were hundreds of tips that led nowhere. Some were cruel hoaxes, others were cases of mistaken identity, and even a few psychics called. Gina’s mother was still visiting psychics and tarot-card readers until her death. The media produced first-,
fifth-, and tenth-anniversary stories. But all the leads and exposure took the case nowhere.

  “I lost track of the man-hours I invested. We all busted our butts trying to find her. Have you recently talked to the cops?”

  “The case is technically still open, so no one will speak to me. I’ve lost track of how many messages I left.”

  He doesn’t look bothered by my frustration. “I’m surprised you came to see me. You hated me.”

  “I’m still not fond of you. But I want to find Gina.”

  He presses against the pillows supporting his back. “Did you ever remember anything more about that night?”

  I hear the challenge behind his words. “Not more than I did fourteen years ago. I’ve tried, but I can’t fill in all the pieces.”

  Detective North brushes imaginary lint from his creased sleeve. “Don’t beat yourself up. I know I was rough on you.”

  “Why didn’t you believe me?”

  “Too many holes in your story. Her blood was on your shirt. Your failed memory. Your relationship with Randy.”

  “Randy’s back in jail on murder charges.”

  “I know. I keep up.” He sighs. “I leaned hard on him. I wanted to keep pressing, but finally had to settle. The guy never wavered from his story, and his parents were connected and had money. He was arrested for burglarizing a home in his parents’ neighborhood a few nights before Gina vanished. He got seven years for that conviction. To this day, I believe I got my man when I arrested him. Sometimes you lose and take what you can get. No way he’ll skate this time.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Friday, March 16, 2018; 3:00 p.m.

  Kaitlin had never been good at taking instruction, especially from cops. She’d learned firsthand no one was really safe no matter how carefully they played it. She parked at the end of the gravel driveway and studied the brick home covered in ivy and surrounded by boxwoods. It looked as she had remembered. A little digging had told her Randy’s mother, Ruth, still lived here.

  Out of the car, pad and recorder in her purse, Kaitlin knocked on the door. Through its glass panes, she saw the flicker of movement before footsteps sounded in the hallway. The door opened to an older woman with sweeping white hair who was dressed in a flowing cream-colored shirt, black slacks, and flats. Her makeup was immaculate, and she wore a strand of pearls with a diamond clasp.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Hayward?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I went to school with your son, Randy. My name is Kaitlin Roe.”

  The smile vanished. “What are you doing here?”

  Good to be remembered. “I went to see Randy earlier today.”

  “Why?”

  Kaitlin adjusted the backpack on her shoulder. “I’m making a podcast. I’m trying to draw attention to the Gina Mason disappearance.”

  A neatly painted brow rose. “I’d think you’d want to forget what happened to your cousin.”

  “I tried. I can’t.”

  Mrs. Hayward shook her head. “I’ve worked hard to put that time behind me, and I’m not interested in opening old wounds again.” She moved to close the door.

  Kaitlin blocked it with her hand. “I’m not here with a grievance. I have a couple of questions about Randy. Honestly, I just want to find Gina.”

  Mrs. Hayward didn’t try to shove her. “You’re not the first reporter to contact me.”

  “I’m not really a reporter. I’m looking for Gina. I might not ever find her, but at least she won’t be forgotten.”

  “People don’t want to remember.”

  “It’s not a matter of what they want.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You dated Randy for a couple of months. How old were you? Sixteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “A girl that age had no business dating a twenty-one-year-old man.” She shook her head. “I remember seeing you with him. You looked at him with adoration.”

  “I was young and foolish.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “I remember you told me to stay clear of him. I wouldn’t listen.”

  “No, you didn’t. And I should have told your aunt about what was going on, but I didn’t want the trouble.” Her head cocked a fraction. “Do you still have a soft spot for Randy?”

  “No. This has nothing to do with him.”

  “Good. Because I don’t have any more love left for him. He isn’t worth it.”

  Kaitlin sensed a small opening. “But you didn’t believe that then. You thought you could save him. I know you fought hard to keep Randy out of prison fourteen years ago. I know you loved him.”

  She fiddled with a silver bracelet banding her slim wrist. “I’m his mother. It’s natural for me to try and save my child.”

  “It must hurt to know he’s back in jail now and facing the death penalty.”

  “I gave up on Randy a long time ago. He’s called me several times since his last mishap, but I’ve not taken his calls.”

  Randy’s mother had always brushed off her son’s violent tendencies as misfortunes or bits of trouble. Kaitlin fought back bitterness. “I only care about Gina.”

  A large diamond ring dwarfed her arthritic finger. “Do you think this podcast will make the police take a second look at Randy? Are they going to try to prove he hurt that girl?”

  As handy as a lie would be, Kaitlin reached for the truth when she could. “I want the police to take another look at her case. And if that means looking at Randy again, then so be it.”

  Mrs. Hayward drew in a breath and stepped aside, creating more space in the doorway. “Come inside. I only have a few minutes.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  Kaitlin followed Mrs. Hayward into a living room designed with a large bank of windows that were decorated in floral silk drapes. The lot was wooded and sloped straight to Riverside Drive. A few buds clung to the branches, but none had blossomed. The river and road were visible now, but shortly all the foliage would bloom, making it nearly impossible to see the road. By her calculation, Mrs. Hayward’s house was a quarter mile from the spot where Gina was taken.

  Mrs. Hayward lowered herself into a wingback chair. “You were with that poor girl when she vanished.”

  Kaitlin sat in a chair beside the older woman and angled her body toward her. “Yes, when she was abducted.”

  “You didn’t identify Randy in the lineup.”

  “The man who took Gina was wearing a mask. And as you may have heard, I was drunk.”

  “I heard.” She drew in a breath and slowly let it out. “I heard you were the one who spiked the bottle of lemonade the girls were passing around.”

  That wasn’t true. Yet everyone believed the former drug addict had not only provided the booze but also loaded it with Ecstasy. She’d done worse before in Texas, but not to Gina. “Would you believe me if I denied it?”

  “I’m not sure anymore.” Mrs. Hayward pursed her lips. “Why were you so sure it wasn’t Randy?”

  “I wasn’t. I just couldn’t say it was Randy. I couldn’t send him to prison for life unless I was certain he’d done it.”

  The older woman rubbed a twisted arthritic thumb against her smooth palm. “I wish you had identified him. I wish to God you had. Even if you had lied, I’d have understood.”

  Kaitlin allowed the silence to hang between them.

  “Randy was difficult as a baby. Maybe his father and I spoiled him because we wanted him to be happy, but no matter what we gave him, it was never enough.”

  Randy was good at using people and making them feel guilty when they didn’t give him everything he wanted. Kaitlin had gotten free of him, and it appeared his mother was doing the same. “He made me feel the same.”

  “I suppose we have that in common.” The older woman stared at Kaitlin for a long moment. “I’m not taking his calls this time. I’m not helping him again.”

  Kaitlin didn’t respond, sensing the woman had more to say.

  “Randy dated every girl at Saint Mathew�
��s at one point. He liked them pretty and young.” She plucked at an imaginary thread on her pants. “But Gina always said no to him. That girl won points in my book. At first he took her rejection in stride, but as he got older, it bothered him more and more.”

  “Why? Do you think it was his drug problem?”

  “The meth and heroin made him paranoid. He started to take everything harder and had terrible mood swings.” She shook her head. “Listen to me talking about such drugs so casually. When I first heard about them, I had to go to the library and look them up.”

  “They’re insidious.”

  “I thought Randy would grow up. He had barely finished his second year of college and was on academic probation. His father and I wanted him to get serious about school. But he liked to play. He liked his drugs. He liked the girls.” She absently stared at a painting of herself and Randy as a young mother and son. “The cops asked me if Randy knew Gina well.”

  “You told them he didn’t know her that well.”

  Her brows knotted, and she slowly expelled a breath. “I thought I could save him. I thought if I gave him one more chance, he’d straighten out his life. So I told the police he didn’t know her.”

  “But he did know her. Several of her friends knew he wanted to go out with her and she rejected him.”

  She shrugged. “Hearsay from a bunch of teenagers looking for some fame and attention. I knew my boy better than anyone, and I made that clear to the police.”

  “If you knew him so well, then you knew he didn’t like hearing no.”

  She was silent for a moment. The habit of guarding old secrets was hard to break. “With Gina, he had met his match. It made him mad when she ignored him. I never told anyone, not even his father, but her rebuffs made him want her even more.” Mrs. Hayward suddenly looked vulnerable. “What did he say when you went to see him?”

  Kaitlin slowly folded a sheet of notebook paper, buying time before saying, “He says he knows where Gina is.”

  Mrs. Hayward’s serene face crumpled, revealing raw pain. She raised a trembling hand and pressed it against closed eyes, until finally she opened them. Watery blue eyes reflected a blend of sadness and unchecked anger. “Randy is a liar. You know that.”