Fluorescent lighting gave the police station interior the ambiance of the Alien Autopsy set. Nessa tried not to imagine the origins of the gruesome stains on the chairs she and Jo had been offered.
“An entire family vanishes from the face of the planet in less than twenty-four hours, and you’re telling us we shouldn’t be worried?” They’d agreed it was best to let Nessa do the talking, but even she was having trouble staying diplomatic.
According to the sign on his desk, the man sitting across from them was Chief of Police John Rocca. The shelves on the wall behind him were lined with framed commendations and softball trophies. Franklin stood off to the side, listening silently with his arms crossed over his chest. Franklin had lived in the area for six months, while Rocca knew everyone in town.
“It’s unusual, Mrs. James,” Rocca agreed. “But so are the Welshes.”
Nessa glanced over at Jo and saw her friend’s fists clench. The moment Franklin had brought them in to speak to the chief of police, she’d known the conversation would go nowhere. Rocca was in his early fifties, with the robust physique of a triathlete and the personality of a barbell. He had to hear them out, but he wasn’t going to pretend to give a damn that the Welshes were missing.
“Amber has three little boys, Chief Rocca,” Nessa said. “They’ve disappeared, too.”
Rocca’s eyelids closed and reopened in a slow, lizardlike blink. “How well do you know Amber Welsh?”
Nessa let Jo answer. “I met her a few days ago,” Jo reluctantly offered.
“Well, I’ve known her most of her life. She’s been in trouble since she was arrested for arson when she was fifteen years old. The man she married, Declan Welsh, is currently in prison for running a meth lab out of a White Castle. Between the two of them, they know quite a few people who could help the whole family disappear overnight. Trailers are called trailers for a reason. They often come with wheels.”
“Amber couldn’t find anyone to drive her into town when her car broke down, but we’re supposed to believe she knew people who could move her trailer with just a few hours’ notice?” Jo argued.
“You’re welcome to believe what you like, Mrs. Levison. All I’m saying is, the Welshes could have called in a favor from a friend.”
Jo turned her attention to Nessa. “I don’t buy it. Last night Amber told me she was going to stay right there in that spot until she was one hundred percent certain that her daughter wasn’t coming home. If it was my daughter, I’d do the same thing, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh yes,” Nessa readily agreed.
“Maybe she woke up to reality and realized there was no point in staying,” Rocca said.
Nessa wasn’t sure how to interpret that statement, and the chief’s expression wasn’t much help. His eyes moved to the left and locked on Jo.
“Now, Mrs. Levison, since you’re here, why don’t we take care of a little business. I was informed that you intended to pay for the damage to the department’s front window. One of my officers stopped by your place of business this afternoon, but you were out at the time. Detective Rees, would you mind picking up a copy of the bill from the front desk when you show these two ladies to the door?”
It was clear they’d been dismissed.
“Thank you for your time.” Nessa forced the words out as she rose from her chair.
Jo said nothing until they’d left the building. In the parking lot, she picked up a chunk of rock.
“Since I’m going to pay for a whole new window, what do you say I widen that crack in the old one?”
“She’s joking,” Nessa assured Franklin, who’d walked them out.
“No, I’m not,” Jo said.
“I know you’re both frustrated,” Franklin said. “But he’s right about the Welshes. The odds are good they’ll turn up again soon.”
“What if he’s wrong, Franklin?” Nessa demanded, surprised to hear him taking Rocca’s side. “Someone around here has been killing girls, and now a family with three little kids has disappeared. What if something happened to them? Could you live with yourself?”
Franklin lowered his voice. “I said Rocca was right. I didn’t say I was going to do nothing. I’ll see what I can find out about Amber and the kids.”
“And what about Mandy? You told me you’d look for her body.”
“Yes, and I did some research. The water off Danskammer Beach is deep. We’d need to bring in divers and special equipment to do a proper search. Right now I don’t have any concrete evidence that there are bodies out there, and Rocca’s not going to sign off on an expensive search because someone has a hunch.”
“It’s more than a hunch,” Nessa argued.
“Telling him my friend Nessa dreams about ghosts is not going to help the situation. But don’t worry. I haven’t given up yet.”
“Dreams?” Jo blurted out. Nessa shot her a look.
“Amber Welsh thought Mandy was interviewing for a job out at Culling Pointe, and her body was dumped in the water off Danskammer Beach Road,” Nessa said. “The girl we found was left nearby in the scrub. There are houses on the Pointe with a view of the entire coastline. Maybe someone there saw something suspicious.”
Franklin shook his head. “We can’t just go knocking on doors on the Pointe.”
“Why not?” Jo demanded. “You’re a detective investigating a murder, and they’re citizens just like the rest of us.”
“In theory, yes. But that’s not how things operate in the real world. I’ve made discreet inquiries regarding our Jane Doe, and we’ve run background checks on the staff at Culling Pointe to see if anyone out there has a criminal history, but we will not be going door-to-door asking billionaires a bunch of questions.”
“There could be a serial killer around here, and the police are making ‘discreet inquiries’?” Nessa scoffed.
They’d reached Jo’s car. Franklin stopped Nessa before she could reach the passenger side. “What makes you think there’s a serial killer?”
“Two girls have been murdered—” Nessa started to say.
“We have one body at the moment, and it belongs to a girl who died of a fentanyl overdose. We have no proof she was murdered—and no evidence that she and Mandy Welsh are connected in any way. Or do we?” Franklin paused for the answer. “Nessa?”
Nessa hadn’t told him about the third girl, and she wasn’t ready to reveal the true nature of her gift. An uncomfortable minute ticked past as the three of them remained frozen, engaged in a silent standoff. When it became clear that Nessa’s lips were going to stay sealed, Jo sighed and unlocked her car.
Franklin shook his head and opened Nessa’s door for her. “There’s no reason to hold back,” he said quietly. “You know you can trust me.”
Nessa climbed into the passenger seat of Jo’s Highlander and looked back at him. He bore no resemblance to her late husband, but his manner called Jonathan to mind. Back in the city, the two men hadn’t known each other well. But Jonathan had considered Franklin one of the good guys—and he’d made it clear that good guys were few and far between.
“I’ll be in touch,” Nessa told him. Franklin nodded and closed the door.
“What the fuck?” Jo said as she turned out of the parking lot. “You haven’t told him you can see these girls, have you?”
“No,” Nessa admitted.
“Why the hell not?” Jo asked.
“It just doesn’t feel right,” Nessa replied sullenly.
“You don’t trust him?”
“Of course I do!”
“Well, then how’s he supposed to help us if you’re keeping things from him?” Jo demanded. “Two girls could be a weird coincidence. Three dead girls in the same spot is a totally different story.”
“I know,” Nessa growled back. “And I’ll tell him as soon as I’m ready.”
Jo leaned over and put a hand on Nessa’s arm. “Aww. Look at us. We’re having our first fight!”
Nessa tried not to laugh, but a giggle slipped out before she could catch it. “I’m serious, dammit,” she said in her serious voice.
“Me too, sweetheart,” Jo said, giving Nessa’s arm a light squeeze. “You better tell Franklin everything soon, or I’ll fucking do it.”