LAURIE WAS SO involved in trying to figure out what the next steps would be—no Omid to help her—that she didn’t listen to her daughter’s words at first.
She didn’t hear her until Jojo was standing up, in her face, almost shouting, “It isn’t CapB! And it isn’t Kevin! It’s got to be a cop!”
“But the text says—” She caught herself. She sounded like an average citizen, believing what was in front of her face instead of really thinking about it. “Okay, what?”
“Kevin. It wasn’t him. He wouldn’t set CapB up like that—he loves them. They love him.” Jojo shook her head hard. “I think someone is trying really hard to make it look like it’s CapB, except it’s someone else, trying to throw us off the scent. But that message means it has to be someone who knows that Harper and I are involved with the group.”
“You were assaulted in his house.” She still couldn’t stay the word rape to Jojo. “In his house.”
“Kevin’s gay.”
The sudden pivot of topic made her head hurt. “No he’s not.” Kevin Leeds was dating some model, wasn’t he? He was last year, anyway, when he first started hitting the news for being an activist.
“He told me. I didn’t want to tell because it’s not my secret, but I had to. Didn’t I?”
Laurie crossed her arms hard across her chest. “So what?”
“So he didn’t rape me. And that means that—”
“Believe it or not, a gay man can rape a woman. It’s about power, not—”
“I know.” Jojo cut her off. “I get that. I’m not stupid. But listen. Kevin is my friend. The people in CapB are my friends, too. I know you hate that, but it’s true. I know I can trust them.”
“How?”
“How do you know you can trust yours?”
Laurie winced. Most of her friends worked with her. And she had no idea how she could trust any of them anymore. “What are you saying, exactly?”
“It could be anyone on that list that she was chatting with. You know her, she’ll tell anyone anything. Except Ramsay. It’s probably not him because he’s dead.” Jojo covered her mouth for a moment.
Laurie’s heart clenched in her chest. “I still don’t . . . I can’t accept that it’s a cop. Not one of ours.”
“Mom, use your head. Why would CapB, a group working for the good of humanity—”
Laurie resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“—kidnap a girl, one who’s been working with them? That would mean Kevin was in on it, right? And his lover is dead.”
Laurie gaped. “Zachary Gordon was his . . .”
Jojo nodded shortly. “He wouldn’t rape me and kill the man he loves. He wouldn’t hide Harper, and he wouldn’t try to implicate his group with a terrifying text. Unless he hated CapB or something, but he doesn’t.” Jojo’s voice was raw. “He loves it. And the organization loves him. They idolize him. They wouldn’t do this. There’s nothing in it for them except the end of the group. On the other hand, Harper has been extorting money from these officers. From Dad.” It hurt so bad to say it out loud. “To keep it out of the papers. The one thing that would make it go away is if she went away. It has to be one of the guys on the list.”
There was no guarantee Jojo was actually right, but it sure made more sense, and if Laurie had learned anything in twenty years at the PD, it was that the likeliest answer was usually the correct one. “We need to get info on that phone number.”
“Don’t call dispatch,” said Jojo.
Her daughter was right, so right that it ached. “Yeah. I’ll go run it myself. Put on your shoes.”
Jojo shook her head. “No. Just take the number with you. I’m staying here.”
“You’re going with me.”
“I am not.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“You left me here all night. What’s changed?”
“There are more of them now.” Seven of the men Laurie worked with. And at least one . . .
Jojo folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs. “That’s why I’m not going. If I see one of them in the hall, I’ll lose it.”
That was fair. “Then you’ll stay in the car.”
“Do you think I’m safer in the police department parking lot in a metal box surrounded by glass, or here? With all of Daddy’s dead bolts?”
Fuck. “Fine. I’ll be back in an hour. Less.”
“Mom.” Jojo clasped her elbows, her shoulders hunched forward. “I’m scared.”
Laurie was terrified. Her head dropped, heavy.
But she was the ex-cop. And the dispatcher. And most important of all, she was the mom. She lifted her head again. “It’s all going to be fine, Joshi.”
Sometimes mothers had to lie.