A terrified voice crackled over the phone line on the evening of February 4, 2026, delivering words that would haunt a family forever: “Please don’t shoot me. I’m sorry.” Those desperate pleas from 24-year-old Gabriella Cartagena to her mother marked the final moments anyone heard from the young Marinette, Wisconsin, mother before she vanished. What unfolded over the next six days transformed a quiet riverside community into the heart of a gripping homicide investigation, spanning three states, a high-speed police chase, and a chilling confession that shattered any lingering hope.
Gabriella Alexis Cartagena lived a life centered on love and responsibility. A devoted mother to her 3-year-old daughter from a previous relationship, she balanced everyday routines with the warmth she extended to friends and family. Marinette, a modest city of about 10,000 nestled where the Menominee River divides Wisconsin from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, provided the backdrop for her daily existence. On February 4, she stepped out around 5 p.m., last seen at Red Arrow Park with her 29-year-old boyfriend, Robert Alan Chilcote of Porterfield. The park, with its open fields, walking paths, and proximity to the water, offered a serene spot for locals—until that day turned sinister.
As dusk settled, Cartagena placed the call that ignited alarm. Her voice trembled with fear and tears as she begged not to be shot, followed by an abrupt apology before the line went silent. Repeated attempts to reconnect failed. Panic surged through her family. By the following morning, February 5, at 11:40 a.m., the Marinette Police Department fielded the missing persons report. Detectives quickly labeled the case “involuntary missing,” citing the explicit threat in the call as evidence of coercion or imminent danger. No signs of forced entry appeared at her home, but the circumstances screamed foul play.
Investigators zeroed in on Chilcote almost immediately. Family members identified him as the last person with her, and witnesses placed the couple together at Red Arrow Park earlier that afternoon. Cell phone records and vehicle tracking pointed to movement away from the area. Chilcote drove a red Toyota Prius, which became a critical piece in the puzzle. Police issued public alerts, circulating photos of both Cartagena—described as a vibrant woman with a bright smile—and the vehicle. Community members responded with urgency: flyers distributed door-to-door, social media posts shared thousands of times, and volunteers scoured trails, riverbanks, and wooded edges surrounding Marinette.
The search intensified as winter’s grip lingered, with subfreezing temperatures amplifying fears that exposure could claim a life even without direct violence. Authorities coordinated across jurisdictions, partnering with neighboring departments in Marinette County and into Michigan, where the state line lay just miles away. Tips flooded in, but leads remained elusive until February 9, when a dramatic development unfolded far from Wisconsin.
In Wright County, Minnesota—hundreds of miles west—law enforcement spotted the red Prius. A pursuit erupted, lasting roughly 16 minutes and involving multiple deputies. Speeds exceeded 100 mph at points, turning a routine traffic stop into a dangerous chase. Deputies eventually apprehended Chilcote without further incident. Inside the vehicle, officers recovered multiple firearms, adding weight to suspicions. Jail records in Minnesota booked him on charges of fleeing a peace officer in a motor vehicle and as a fugitive from justice, linking him back to the Marinette case.
News of the arrest spread rapidly, offering a glimmer of hope that Cartagena might still be found alive. But that hope crumbled on February 10. Search teams, guided in part by information from the detained suspect, discovered her body in a remote wooded area off Birch Creek Road in Menominee County, Michigan—just across the border from Marinette. The location, isolated and thick with trees, suggested deliberate efforts to conceal the remains. Authorities recovered her clothing nearby, further solidifying the connection.
An autopsy conducted soon after confirmed the grim reality: Cartagena died from a single gunshot wound to the head. The Marinette Police Department held a press conference, revealing that the death investigation had escalated to homicide. Chief and department spokespeople thanked the public for assistance while stressing that more details would emerge as the probe continued. The body’s discovery across state lines complicated logistics but underscored the multi-agency effort that bridged Wisconsin and Michigan.
A criminal complaint unsealed in the days following painted a disturbing picture. Chilcote, interviewed by Marinette police detectives from his Minnesota jail cell, confessed to the shooting. According to the document, an argument erupted between the couple inside his car near Red Arrow Park. In a claim prosecutors described as an attempt to downplay intent, Chilcote admitted firing the fatal shot into her head while trying to “scare” her during the dispute. He then drove across the state line, dumped her body in the Michigan woods, and fled westward—eventually leading to the Minnesota chase.
Marinette County prosecutors filed one count of first-degree intentional homicide against Chilcote on February 6, with the charge formalized after his confession. In Wisconsin, the offense carries a potential life sentence without parole upon conviction. Bond was set high—initially at $500,000 in related fugitive proceedings—reflecting the severity. On February 20, Chilcote appeared in a Minnesota courtroom, handcuffed, and signed waiver forms, agreeing not to fight extradition back to Wisconsin. The transfer paved the way for arraignment in Marinette County, where he would face the homicide count directly.
The confession sparked intense scrutiny. Chilcote’s assertion that the shooting was meant only to frighten raised questions about intent, self-defense claims, or accidental discharge—arguments his defense might pursue. Prosecutors countered with the deliberate nature of the act, the subsequent disposal of the body, and the flight across states as evidence of consciousness of guilt. Multiple firearms in his possession during the arrest added layers to the case, though no additional weapons charges tied directly to the homicide surfaced publicly.
Gabriella’s young daughter now faces life without her mother, a heartbreaking reality that fueled community outrage and support. Friends described Cartagena as full of energy, always ready with kindness and laughter. She left behind not just a child but a network of people who cherished her presence. On February 18, community members gathered at Red Arrow Park—the very site of her last sighting—for a candlelight vigil. Flames flickered against the winter dusk as attendees shared memories, held signs bearing her photo, and demanded justice. Tears flowed freely; some spoke of the terror in her final call, vowing that her voice would not fade unheard.
The tragedy reverberated beyond Marinette. Domestic violence advocates seized on the case to highlight warning signs often missed in relationships: escalating arguments, control, and sudden volatility. In small towns where everyone knows neighbors, the revelation that danger lurked within a seemingly familiar partnership stunned residents. Local media outlets like WBAY, WLUK, FOX 11, and the Green Bay Press-Gazette provided exhaustive coverage, amplifying the story nationwide through outlets that picked up the chilling phone plea.
As Chilcote awaits trial, questions persist. What sparked the fatal argument? Did prior tensions exist? Could intervention have changed the outcome? Forensic evidence, including ballistics from the recovered firearms, cell data timelines, and witness statements, will likely dominate proceedings. The cross-state elements—crime scene in Wisconsin, body in Michigan, suspect arrested in Minnesota—illustrate the complexities of modern investigations relying on technology and inter-agency cooperation.
For the family, closure remains distant. Grief mingles with the pursuit of accountability. Gabriella Cartagena’s final words—”Please don’t shoot me. I’m sorry.”—echo as a haunting plea that arrived too late. In the quiet woods where her body lay, and along the paths of Red Arrow Park where her story ended, a community mourns a life stolen in an instant of rage. The case stands as a stark warning: behind closed car doors or familiar faces, danger can erupt without warning, leaving devastation in its wake.
