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Her Last Word

Her Last Word

Page 2

“What?”

“Do you ever think about where she is now? I do. Every night. So many terrible things could have happened to her.”

“I know you.” Her voice trailed off.

Her pain focused her attention completely on him. He knelt beside her so she could get a good look at his eyes. “Accept your punishment, and you will feel peace.”

“No.”

“It’s the only way now.” He slowly wrapped her fingers around the knife handle and gently placed his hand over hers. He felt a strong bond with her now.

He raised the knife to her neck. “Jennifer, do you want to do it, or should I?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to die.”

“Punishment is never easy, but once you accept it, you will feel better.”

She shook her head. “No. Please.”

“We’ll do it together.” He drew the sharp tip across her throat, slicing her milk-white flesh. Blood sprayed on him, the walls, and the door as her eyes rolled back in her head and her fingers slackened.

“And if I could fly with that Angel . . . my life would be perfect.”

“Jennifer, when you see God, put a good word in for me.”

INTERVIEW FILE #2

THE 911 CALL

Sunday, August 15, 2004; 11:42 p.m.

It was a hot, muggy night when I stumbled up to the front door of the Riverside Drive house. I was fairly new to the area and still easily turned around. It was nearly midnight, and the residents of this affluent neighborhood weren’t accustomed to drunken late-night visitors. I’d lost track of time and to this day don’t know how I made it up the hill from the river to the Hudson residence.

Dispatcher: “911. What’s your emergency?”

Caller: “My name is Jack Hudson. I live on Riverside Drive. There’s a young woman on my front porch. She’s banging on the door and begging for help.”

Dispatcher: “Have you spoken to her?”

Caller: “Just for a second. She appears drunk. She’s incoherent. Hysterical . . . Oh, shit! She just threw up in the flower bed.”

Dispatcher: “Do you know why she’s upset?”

Caller: “She claims she and her friend were attacked on Riverside Drive. Her friend was then kidnapped.”

Dispatcher: “Did you ask the woman her name?”

Caller: “Her name is Kaitlin. I didn’t catch her last name. She lives down the street with the Mason family. They have a daughter, Gina.”

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