Jo was quiet for a moment. “Good,” she said.
“There’s something else I need to show you,” Claude said. Her hand was visibly shaking as she leaned over and replayed the second clip. Once again, Chief Rocca exited the Dunn home. Just as he reached the sidewalk, Claude hit pause. “See?” She pointed to the glass windows. A pair of silhouettes could be seen on the drawn curtains. “There are still two men inside.”
Jo leaned in. Claude was right. There were two figures standing in Dunn’s living room. A noticeable paunch identified Jackson. The second man appeared leaner.
“That can’t be Spencer,” Claude said. “And we just saw Rocca leave for the Harding house.”
“Who do you think it could be?” Jo turned to find Claude crying. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?” she asked, pulling Claude into a hug.
“I think it might be Leonard.”
“Leonard?” Jo asked as Claude sobbed. That seemed ridiculous. When Claude finally pulled back, Jo handed her a tissue. “Did the footage show Leonard entering Jackson’s house?”
“I watched hours of footage, and there was nothing on it,” Claude said, using the tissue to wipe her eyes. “But Leonard went whale watching that night. I walked down to the dock with him and left him there when it got boring. He could have entered Jackson’s house from the beach. The footage from the camera covering that entrance is missing.”
“Do you have any reason to suspect Leonard might be involved?”
“No,” Claude said. “But it wouldn’t be the first time a man hid the truth from me. If it turns out Leonard lied, after all that I’ve been through, I’m going to kill him, Jo. I’m serious. I will beat the man to death with my own two hands.”
There was no doubt she meant it. “Want to find out?” Jo asked.
Claude balled up her tissue and nodded. “Yeah.”
Just then, Heather burst through the door of Furious Fitness. “OMG, you beat me to work again! Don’t you ever sleep?” It wasn’t easy impressing a boss who worked as hard as Jo.
“The place is all yours,” Jo told her. “I was just about to go out for a jog. You coming?” she asked Claude.
“Right behind you,” Claude said as Jo took off.
By the time Claude caught up, Jo was already halfway down the block, her arms pumping like pistons as the rage inside her propelled her forward. “Where are we going?” Claude asked.
“The police station,” Jo told her.
“To see Rocca?” Claude asked. “Do you really think he’ll tell the truth?”
“He will if I beat it out of him,” Jo said. But when they reached the station, the parking lot was barricaded by sawhorses and the front door was cordoned off with yellow caution tape. The warning seemed rather unnecessary, considering the building itself was covered in furry black mold.
“Shit, I forgot about this,” Jo said. “I should have known the station would be closed.”
“What happened?” Claude panted.
“The cops fucked with the wrong bitch,” Jo said. “Come on, let’s jog down to Grass Beach.”
“Grass Beach?” Claude asked, her eyes still fixed on the mold.
“It’s a beautiful run,” Jo replied. “And all the police officers live down that way.”
On the outskirts of Mattauk, a bridge carried the road over a sea of tall grass that grew in the swampy land separating the town from the beach. It was a peaceful stretch of highway where one was unlikely to encounter another human so early in the morning. The air hadn’t yet lost its nighttime chill, and the breeze off the ocean sent ripples across the grass. Jo’s eyes landed on a patch in the center of the marsh that appeared to be moving against the wind. Something was out there among the reeds. Suddenly, it took a sharp turn to the left, followed by another, until it was heading back the way it had come.