The Last Thing She Ever Did

The detectives from the Bend Police Department were outside.


“Who’s there?” Owen called over from the kitchen.

“The police, Owen.”

Her husband hurried over to her and leaned into her ear.

“Don’t ruin everything,” he said. “I’ll kill myself if I lose you.”

“I won’t,” she said.

Owen reached for her hand. For a moment she thought that he was about to hold it, to give her some support. Instead, he pressed two pills into her palm.

“Take these. I’ll let them in. Stay calm.”

Liz nodded and disappeared into the kitchen for some water.

Owen opened the door.

“Mr. Jarrett,” Esther said, “we’re here to see your wife.”

“What about?”

“Well, to be honest, we’re not sure.”

“She’s not feeling well. She hasn’t been feeling well for a while now. No surprise. It has been a very hard time for all of us.”

“Right,” Esther said. “Can we come in?”

“Like I said, she’s not well.”

“For just a minute,” Jake chimed in.

“I don’t see any point in it,” Owen said, letting them inside and shutting the door.

“She was at the police department today,” Esther said.

“Right,” Owen said. “She called me to come get her. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“I see,” Esther said. “May we talk to her?”

Owen was about to make some excuse when Liz emerged from the kitchen. Her appearance had changed dramatically since the first day the detectives had met her. She was no longer the picture of youthful beauty. She looked tired. Old. Her skin no longer blemish-free. Her hair dull. Even her outfit was at odds with the young woman who had been fastidious in her appearance. A food stain ran down the front along the zipper of her light blue jogging suit.

“Liz,” Owen said, “the detectives want to know why it was that you came to see them today.”

Liz stepped closer to the trio by the front door. Her movements were somehow both jittery and slow. She was a machine that hadn’t been used in a very long time.

“Right,” she said. “I came by to see you.”

“Yes,” Esther said. “That’s right. But when I came out to talk to you, you were gone.”

“Owen’s right,” Liz said. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You left this,” Esther said, handing over the purse.

Liz stared at the purse like it was a foreign object, thinking a moment.

“Thanks,” she said. “Like I said, I felt sick.”

Esther kept her eyes on Liz. “Are you feeling better now?” she asked.

Liz set the purse down and rubbed her temples. “No. Not at all. I think I need to lie down.”

“My wife needs some rest,” Owen said. “This ordeal has been very hard on her.”

“Of course,” Esther said. “But first, Mrs. Jarrett, do you mind telling us why you came to see us? Did you have some information that might be helpful about Charlie? Do you know something about his disappearance?”

“I need to lie down,” she said. “I really don’t feel well.”

Esther persisted. “All right. I understand. Then why did you come?”

Owen interjected. “Can’t you see she’s a wreck? She’s heartbroken. She wanted to know why the hell you people haven’t found Charlie. It’s killing her. It’s killing Carole.”

Esther ignored Owen. “Is that why you came to see me?”

Liz slumped backward onto the sofa. Her fall was hard, not a soft landing at all. Nearly a free fall. “What Owen said. I just wanted to see if there was anything we could do. That’s why.”

Esther didn’t think so. “It’s more than that, isn’t it, Liz?”

Liz blinked, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

“Is she all right?” the detective said, turning to Owen.

“She’s fine,” he said. “She took a sedative before you came. That’s how messed up she is by all of this. It’s tearing her apart. You can only cry so much before you look for new ways to ease the pain. I think you both should leave right now.”

“Maybe she needs a doctor,” Esther said.

Owen got up and went to the front door. He swung it open. His movements were abrupt. “What she needs is for you to do your job,” he said. “We all need that. Your department is the sorriest excuse for a police force in the state. Little kid goes missing and you do nothing. Shame on you both.”



“Well, that was quite a show,” Esther said to Jake on the way to the car. “Mr. Lumatyx doesn’t seem to want his wife telling us anything.”

“She’s obviously fragile,” Jake said, opening the passenger-side door. “Maybe he’s just protecting her.”

“That’s what he wants us to think. He yanked her out of our office as fast as he could. She didn’t even take her purse.”

“Maybe she really was having a breakdown and he wanted to save her from making a public scene.”

“He’s all about appearances, that’s for sure,” Esther said. “Those jeans he was wearing cost three hundred dollars. The watch, four grand.”

“That’s a lot of dough,” Jake said. “How do you know that?”

“I was married to a guy like that. Everything had to be the best. I wore the same three suits all week long and he had to have a new one every month. My ex was definitely an Owen Jarrett type.”

“If she has something to say, what do you think it would be?”

“My guess is that she has information about Charlie’s disappearance as it relates to someone close to her. I don’t think she witnessed anything. She’d have told us that on the first day. Someone must have disclosed something or she found out something on her own. Look at her. She’s a mess because something terrible is eating her from the inside out.”

“I thought she was going to pass out,” Jake said.

“She knows something.”

“Like she’s protecting someone.”

“Right.”

“Then who? Her husband?”

Esther started the car. “Maybe. But I don’t think so. He was at work when Charlie went missing.”

“And she was at her exam.”

“Yes. My guess is that it all ties back to Carole and what happened that morning.”

“You think Carole did something to her own son?”

“I don’t want to think that,” she said. “But we can’t account for what she was doing after David left for work at seven and when she talked to the insurance adjuster. She had several hours alone with her boy.”

“She doesn’t seem to be the type,” Jake said.

“The type never seems to be the type,” Esther said, wincing at her words. “You know what I mean. You just can’t ever know what’s in someone’s heart, Jake. Not based on how they look, the money they have, their education, whatever. Sometimes there’s a lot of ugly behind perfection.”

“Carole seems genuinely distraught.”

“She does, I’ll give you that. The truth is we can’t know what’s behind someone’s emotions. Half the time we project what we think we’d be feeling if we’d found ourselves in the same dire situation. Empathy is often misplaced.”

“That’s a pretty jaded opinion, Esther. Sorry, but it is.”

“I know. You’re just starting out. Give yourself some time. What we see up close changes us.”

Jake refused to be convinced. “A mother killing her own child? I just don’t buy it. Not this mother.”

Gregg Olsen's books