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The Change(122)

Author:Kirsten Miller

“I would imagine the detective’s car parked in front of Nessa’s house might have deterred them.”

Jo’s brow furrowed. “I’m talking about last night.”

“So am I,” said Harriett.

“Oh,” said Jo, her eyes widening as she realized what that meant. “How do you—” She stopped. “Did you have something to do with that?”

Harriett shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You two seem to think I’m responsible for everything. All I do is stand back and let nature take its course.”

They knew. The second she opened the door, Nessa could see there would be no need for a confession. Whether by gossip or witchcraft, Jo and Harriett already knew she’d slept with Franklin. Jo had too much on her mind to make any wisecracks, and didn’t catch the wink Harriett gave Nessa as she breezed by.

“Can I get you guys some coffee?” Nessa offered awkwardly.

“No, thank you,” Jo said before rounding on Franklin. They’d all known something bad would happen. She didn’t know if he could have stopped it. What she did know for sure was that he hadn’t tried. “Someone in your department tipped off Spencer Harding. He sent one of his thugs to my home last night. The man went straight to my daughter’s room.”

“What?” Nessa felt ill. She turned to Franklin. “You didn’t tell me everything.”

“We don’t know for certain that Spencer Harding was behind the breakin,” Franklin offered stoically.

“The man who broke into my house zip-tied Lucy’s wrists and crammed a stuffed pig into her mouth. What do you think would have happened to her, Franklin? Rape? Torture? Would we have found her months from now in a trash bag by the side of the road?”

“Oh my dear Lord.” Nessa’s eyes filled with tears as Franklin shuffled uncomfortably.

“You don’t want to think about it, do you? Well, that’s too fucking bad, Franklin, because it’s all I’m going to think about for the next thirty years.”

“Now, Jo—”

Jo took a step toward him, and Franklin retreated slightly. She may have been the smaller of the two, but she had fury on her side.

“Don’t,” she warned him. Nessa could see her friend’s body vibrating like a pressure cooker that was fixing to blow. “And don’t tell me I don’t know it was Spencer Harding, because I do. So does Nessa, so does Harriett, and so do you.”

“I spoke with Chief Rocca before you arrived.” Franklin’s voice remained cool and calm. “The man who broke into your home is refusing to talk. But he’ll crack eventually, and in the meantime, he’s safely behind bars.”

“Do you have any idea how many more men Spencer Harding can afford to hire? He’s got hundreds of millions of dollars, Franklin. That’s supervillain rich. He could pay people to come after each of us. He could send someone for Nessa’s girls, too. I fucking told you we were all sitting ducks here. My eleven-year-old daughter could have ended up like the girl on the beach. Now you’re asking me to wait for the system to work? The law won’t protect us. We have to protect ourselves.”

“You can’t take matters into your own hands,” Franklin said.

“Why not?” Jo demanded.

“Jo—” Nessa started.

Jo spun around to face her. “That’s my job, is it not? Taking matters into my own hands? If the system functioned the way it should, I wouldn’t be necessary. None of us would.”

Harriett had laid herself down on the sofa where the girl in blue had once sat. Nessa looked to her for help, but received nothing but a grin in return.