Her Last Word(99)
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
The room was windowless, and the concrete walls were papered in hundreds of pictures of Gina Mason. As she pushed herself to her feet, her heart beat faster. She fought a wave of nausea. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and took several deep breaths until her stomach settled.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
Something deep inside her prodded her and told her she’d been a damn fool and was now going to die because of her own stupidity. She’d recognized fear because she’d faced it so often and for many years allowed it to run her life. But this time, she pushed it away and refused to listen to the horrible things it wanted to whisper.
She had to find a way to reach Marcus. They’d both wanted the same thing—to find Gina—for fourteen years.
Drawing in a breath she said, “Stop playing the games, Marcus. You’ve been wanting to face me for a long time, so show yourself so we can talk.” Her voice was hoarse and her throat dry. “We have more in common than you realize.”
Silence.
She pushed back a rising sense of panic. “We have a lot to talk about. I have information about Gina. I know who killed her.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
Adler found Quinn, and as the two drove across town to Ashley’s viewing, he briefed her on what Logan had told him. At the funeral home, he spotted Kaitlin’s SUV. He crossed to the vehicle and put his hand on the hood. It was cold.
“She said she’s with Marcus,” Quinn said.
Adler called Kaitlin again. It went to voicemail. “This is not good.”
They strode inside and followed the directional signs to the Ralston room. There were still a handful of people gathered around the closed casket. Ashley was dressed in black and dabbing a tissue to her red-rimmed eyes.
Ashley spotted Adler and, breaking away from the group, moved toward them. “Detectives.”
“We came to pay our respects.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Quinn said softly.
“I spotted Kaitlin Roe’s car outside,” Adler said.
Ashley’s lips flattened into a grim line. “She left here about an hour ago. The woman has nerve. She said she was paying her respects, but I half expected her to pull out her recorder to capture a sound bite for that damn podcast of hers. What the hell is it with the media? Do they have any shame?”
“Them? Who else from the media was here?” Quinn asked.
“Steven Marcus. Another liar who’s working on his book.”
“He spoke to you?”
“He dropped off flowers, but when I saw him approach, I turned my back to him.”
“Where are the flowers he brought?” Quinn asked.
“Over there by the others. White tulips, I think.”
Quinn met Adler’s gaze and crossed the room to the arrangement.
“Did you notice the type of car he was driving?” Adler asked.
Ashley laughed. “No. I kind of had my hands full here.”
Quinn returned from the arrangement. “There’s no card.”
Adler’s gaze swept the room. “Thank you, Ms. Ralston.”
As the detectives left, Adler double-checked his phone. There was a text from Kaitlin.
John, I’m at Marcus’s house. Help me.
“What the hell is she doing at his house?” Adler opened the computer in his vehicle and typed in Marcus’s residence. As the directions appeared, he dialed Logan and thought about the text. She’d called him John. She’d never called him John, not even when they were making love.
When Logan picked up, Adler said, “I need everything you can find out about Steven Marcus. Anything I can use. And I need it now.”
“I’m on it.”
INTERVIEW FILE #28
IS A PSYCHOPATH MADE OR BORN?
Some of the most successful people are psychopaths. Many are leaders in the business world, politics, journalism, and organized crime. Their underlying trait is selfishness. They know what they want and will do whatever it takes to get it. They have no remorse.
The reality is very few psychopaths commit murder. Why they do cross that line is anyone’s guess. Is it predisposed in their DNA? Is there a trigger that sets them off? The truth is, no one really knows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday, March 24, 2018; 8:00 p.m.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
The tape was on a loop, and it repeated over and over so often she’d lost count of how many times. “Is the plan to drive me insane, Marcus?” she shouted. “If you think hearing her voice over and over again is going to drive me mad, you’re a little late. Her voice is all I’ve heard for the last fourteen years. Why don’t you turn up the volume? Maybe put a soundtrack on it.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
Footsteps sounded outside the room, and a switch clicked on, leaking light through the edges of the door. She was relieved. At least she had his attention.
“That’s right, Marcus, come and talk to me. We are the last two people on this planet who still give a shit about Gina.” No answer. “I know you must care a lot about her. All the guys loved her. She was too hard to resist.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”