“The eulogy you gave at Mandy Welsh’s funeral inspired me. I wanted to do something to deserve you.” He put an arm around Nessa’s shoulders and gently guided her out of the room. “Now, if it’s possible, let’s pick this up in the morning. I have a few important questions to ask you about this team we’re forming.”
Franklin closed the door to the office behind them. They walked back through the house to the deck and its gorgeous view. Nessa came to a stop. The migraine that had been her constant companion was gone. For the first time in weeks, her mind felt clear.
“What do you want to know?” Nessa asked.
“You like steak?” Franklin asked.
Nessa remembered the joke her daughters had made. She stepped up to Franklin and put her arms around his neck.
“I love it,” she said.
They didn’t eat their steak until midnight.
“So how was the second time?” Jo asked the next day as they did squats in front of a mirror at Furious Fitness. “Better than the first?”
Nessa glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “It felt like a religious experience,” she whispered. She’d never shared such private thoughts with another woman before.
Jo laughed so hard she nearly dropped her ten-pound barbells. “You mean like angels singing and harps playing?”
“To be honest?” Nessa stopped and smiled at the memory. “Yeah. I don’t know what it is about that man. He just knows exactly what to do.”
“Well, whatever he did, you definitely needed it. You looked like a whole new woman when you walked through the door this afternoon.”
“That’s because my headache went away,” Nessa said.
“I bet,” Jo joked.
“No, it wasn’t the sex.” Nessa was suddenly serious. “My migraine disappeared after Franklin showed me all the work he’s been doing. I think there are more dead girls around here who need to be found, and they’ve been yelling at me all at once. They’re frustrated that no one’s been looking.”
Jo set down her barbells. “Shit,” she sighed, her fears confirmed. “Remember that morning we drove out to Danskammer Beach to look for the first body? I thought that was going to be the worst day of my life. Now we’re in the middle of a fucking conspiracy. You’re saying there are more dead girls out there, and we know the chief of police and Jackson Dunn are involved somehow. God knows who else is. And somehow we’re supposed to bring them all to justice.”
“I know, but what are we going to do?” Nessa asked. “We obviously can’t go to the police. And after that Newsnight special, no one in the media’s going to talk to us.”
“As soon as we’re done with our workout, let’s reach out to Josh Gibbon and see if he wants to rehabilitate his reputation. Bet he’ll be interested in that surveillance footage from the Pointe, if we can get our hands on it.”
“I guess we could give it a shot, but what do you want to bet he’s got our numbers blocked?” Nessa asked.
“If he does, then we’ll just have to hunt the little bastard down, won’t we?”
“Jo?” The door to the weight room opened. It was Heather, who’d been promoted to manager just that morning. “You asked me to remind you about the young women’s self-defense class?”
Jo had posted an invite on social media the day before. Nervous that turnout wouldn’t be enough to impress her benefactors, she’d done her best to put it out of her mind.
“Is it five already?” Jo asked, glancing down at her smartwatch, which told her they were still fifteen minutes short of the hour.
“No,” Heather said, “but I thought you might want to come out a bit early. Your friend Claude just arrived, and we’ve got quite a few people out front.”
“Really?” Jo felt a jolt of excitement. She set her barbells aside and jogged out of the weight room, with Nessa right behind her. From the stairs to the first floor, she could see a crowd of girls and their mothers crammed into the gym’s reception area. A line to get inside stretched into the parking lot.
“Oh wow,” Nessa gasped. “You’ve really started something.”
Claude was practically bouncing with glee when she greeted the two of them at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh my God, Jo, I think every mother in Mattauk is here with her daughters!”
“I had no idea it would be so popular,” Jo said. “Heather, would you mind calling Art and asking him to bring Lucy over?”
For the first time, Jo could envision a day when Lucy would walk to the gym on her own. The fear that had been Jo’s constant companion since her daughter was born no longer felt like an invincible foe. For years, it had lurked inside her, springing out the moment Jo lost sight of Lucy in the grocery store—or Lucy took too long walking home from a friend’s. Within seconds, the fear could grow into something monstrous. Jo scanned the crowd of mothers who’d come to Furious Fitness with their daughters. Jo could tell they all knew that same terror. Like her, they’d battled it daily. Now it was starting to feel like their war might have an end.
“I knew.” Claude reached out a hand to Nessa. “Hi, I’m Claude.”
“Shit, sorry,” Jo said. “This is my best friend Nessa James. Nessa, this is Claude.”
“What a wonderful thing you guys are doing for these girls,” Nessa told Claude. “I’m so proud of Jo. I think she’s really found her calling.”
“Maybe, but I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with this many girls on a regular basis,” Jo admitted, her confidence a bit shaken. “There have to be two hundred girls here, and it’s not even five.”
“Leave the logistics to me,” Claude said. “I’m used to handling Leonard’s charity events.”
“What kind of stuff does Leonard’s charity do?” Nessa asked.
“Right now, we’re focused on building schools in developing nations. Earlier this year, we were in the Caribbean. Before that, we spent a month in Nepal. We had four hundred kids show up for opening day there. So I have a lot of experience with crowds this big.”
“Great. So where should we take these girls?” Jo asked. “There are too many to fit inside the gym. I guess the park’s a few blocks away. Why don’t I lead them all over there, and we can have one giant class?”
“See? You’re already getting the hang of it!” Claude cheered her on. “While you’re teaching them how to kick butt, I’ll go around and group the girls by age and assign them to classes. I’m thinking six classes in total, and each girl comes once a week.”
Jo gazed out over the crowd, which had continued to grow while she, Claude, and Nessa were chatting. There were giddy little girls wearing shirts emblazoned with glittery unicorns and surly teens rocking red lip gloss and eyeliner. Every variety of girl was represented. Rich girls, poor girls, good girls, badasses. It was the makings of a formidable army. She would teach them everything. She would make them invincible. This was the generation that would finally turn the tables. Maybe when their own daughters were born, they wouldn’t need to spend their days fighting fear.
Jo looked over at Nessa. “Looks like I may have my hands full for the rest of the day. You want to get in touch with Josh Gibbon like we talked about?”
“The podcast guy?” Claude asked. “Aren’t you done with him after that Newsnight debacle?”