A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

“I know her, Bea,” I say, and I explain. Bea’s face falls, but to her, it
changes nothing. “We need to call 911,” I insist. “We need to call for
an ambulance. She needs help.”
“We’re drunk,” Bea chastises, “and she’s dead, Meredith. She’s
dead. I checked for a pulse—there’s none. There’s nothing we can
do for her. I’ll go to jail if anyone finds out about this.”
“So what do you want to do?” I ask. “You want to just leave?”
It’s unfathomable, leaving Shelby here in the middle of the road for
someone else to find.
Bea shakes her head. “Of course not, Meredith,” she says, “We
can’t just leave her here,” and I’m relieved at first. At first I think Bea
plans to do the right thing. But then she says, “We need to get rid of
her,” and my heart stops.
“What do you mean?” I ask, aghast.
“We need to take her somewhere secluded, where she won’t be
found for a while, if ever.”
“No,” I say, my head jerking wildly back and forth. “No, Bea. Why
would we do that? You’re out of your mind.”
“Listen to me,” Bea says, her voice controlled. She grips my head
in her hands, forces me to look at her. “Just listen to me. I know
you’re upset. I get that, Meredith. I’m upset, too. But think about it for
a minute. Just stop and think. This woman is dead. There’s nothing
we can do for her. If she was alive, Meredith, I’d call an ambulance.
I’d take her to the emergency room myself. But she’s dead. She’s
fucking dead. Nothing we do now can change that. But if we turn
ourselves in, we’re fucked. I’m fucked. We can’t save her but we can
save ourselves.”
“We leave her here, then,” I say, decisive. “We leave her here and
we make an anonymous call to the police.”
If the alternative is hiding her body, it’s better to leave her here.
“We can’t do that,” Bea says.
“Why? What difference does it make?”
Bea’s response is thoughtful, swift. She’s two steps ahead of me.
“Because if we leave her here, the police are searching for the driver
of a hit-and-run by morning, at the latest, if not tonight. If we get rid
of her, they’re looking for a missing person. It’s different. Don’t you
see that, Meredith? For all we know there are tire impressions on her