A chilling plea captured on a late-night phone call—”Please don’t shoot me. I’m sorry.”—echoed through a family’s worst nightmare, turning an ordinary February evening in Marinette, Wisconsin, into the epicenter of a multi-state tragedy that gripped communities across the Midwest. For 24-year-old Gabriella Cartagena, those desperate words, spoken in distress to her mother around 7:20 p.m. on February 4, 2026, marked the last known communication before she vanished. What followed was an intense, cross-border search involving frantic loved ones, vigilant law enforcement, and a person of interest who fled hundreds of miles—only for the case to end in heartbreak when her body was discovered in a remote wooded area days later.
The story begins in the small, close-knit city of Marinette, tucked along the Menominee River where Wisconsin meets Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Gabriella Cartagena, known affectionately as “Gabby” to friends and family, lived a life intertwined with her loved ones. She was described by those who knew her as vibrant, caring, and deeply connected to her family. On February 4, she was last seen at her residence around 5 p.m. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary at first—no dramatic arguments overheard, no signs of immediate danger. But as evening fell, her mother received the call that would haunt everyone involved.
During the conversation, Cartagena sounded terrified. Crying, her voice trembling, she uttered the words that sent chills down her family’s spine: “Please don’t shoot me.” Followed by an apologetic “I’m sorry.” The line went dead abruptly. Attempts to call back failed. Panic set in quickly. By the next morning, February 5, at approximately 11:40 a.m., the Marinette Police Department received the missing persons report. Investigators immediately classified her as “involuntary missing”—a designation reserved for cases where foul play or coercion is suspected—due to the alarming nature of that final call.
Family members pointed authorities toward one key figure: Robert Chilcote, her boyfriend. They believed he had been with her at Red Arrow Park in Marinette around the time of the distress call. Red Arrow Park, a scenic spot with trails and open spaces, suddenly became a focal point. Police scoured the area, interviewed witnesses, and reviewed surveillance footage from nearby businesses. Cell tower data and vehicle sightings began painting a picture of movement after her disappearance. Chilcote, driving a red Toyota Prius, emerged as the primary person of interest.
As the hours stretched into days, the investigation expanded rapidly. Marinette Police collaborated with neighboring agencies, including those in Michigan, given the proximity to the state line. Search teams combed parks, shores along the river, and wooded outskirts. Community members shared flyers, posted on social media, and kept watch for any sign of the young woman or the distinctive red Prius. The fear was palpable: with winter still clinging to the region, exposure alone posed lethal risks, let alone whatever threat the phone call implied.
By February 9, a breakthrough arrived from afar. Chilcote was located in Minnesota, far from Wisconsin. Authorities there arrested him following a high-speed chase involving multiple deputies. The pursuit lasted about 16 minutes. In Wright County, Minnesota, jail records listed him as a fugitive from another state and charged with fleeing police—charges that appeared separate but quickly linked back to the Cartagena case in public reports. Weapons were reportedly recovered from his vehicle, heightening suspicions. Though initial connections remained under wraps, the arrest fueled hope that answers were coming.
Tragically, those answers arrived in the grimmest form. On Tuesday, February 10, 2026—six days after her last sighting—searchers located Gabriella Cartagena’s body in a wooded area off Birch Creek Road in Menominee County, Michigan. The remote location, not far across the state line from Marinette, suggested she had been transported or moved after the initial incident. Police recovered her remains in the morning hours, confirming the worst fears of her family and the community.
Initial announcements from the Marinette Police Department were cautious. A press release stated simply that she had been “located,” thanking the community for their help and promising more details soon. But within days, the truth emerged at a formal press conference. Chief of Police (or department spokesperson) addressed the media, revealing the death investigation. Cause of death awaited autopsy results from the medical examiner, but the circumstances pointed toward homicide. No official charges against Chilcote were detailed immediately in connection to the death, but his custody status and the evidence trail kept him central to the probe.
The emotional toll rippled outward. Cartagena’s family, devastated by the loss, shared their anguish through statements relayed by local outlets like WBAY and WLUK. The plea on the phone call became a haunting refrain in coverage—a mother’s final, terrifying glimpse of her daughter’s fear. “We just want justice,” sentiments echoed in community forums and online tributes. Friends remembered Gabby as someone full of life, quick with a smile, and always there for others. Photos circulated showing her laughing with loved ones, a stark contrast to the violence that ended her story.
The case highlights vulnerabilities in domestic relationships and the speed with which danger can escalate. Authorities noted the multi-jurisdictional effort: Wisconsin initiating the search, Michigan recovering the body, Minnesota detaining the suspect. Surveillance from businesses, cell data, and public tips proved crucial in tracking movements. The red Prius sightings helped narrow leads, demonstrating how modern tools accelerate investigations in rural areas.
As February 2026 unfolded, questions lingered. What transpired between the 5 p.m. sighting and the 7:20 p.m. call? Was the plea related to an argument gone deadly, or something more calculated? Why the cross-state flight? Prosecutors in Marinette and Menominee counties coordinated, with potential charges ranging from aggravated assault to homicide depending on forensic findings. Chilcote’s extradition loomed as a next step.
The tragedy struck a nerve in Marinette and beyond. Small towns like this rarely make national headlines, but the raw terror in Cartagena’s voice transcended geography. Vigils lit up local parks; online fundraisers supported the family; residents reflected on safety in relationships. Domestic violence advocates pointed to warning signs often overlooked—escalating control, isolation, sudden volatility.
In the quiet woods off Birch Creek Road, where snow might still have dusted the ground, a young life ended far too soon. Gabriella Cartagena’s story serves as a somber reminder: a single phone call can change everything, and sometimes the pleas for help come just moments too late. With investigations ongoing, her family clings to memories while seeking accountability. The Midwest winter carries on, but for those who loved her, the chill will linger far longer.
