Page 92 of The Change
“Yes. She hadn’t officially rented it. But I know the locker belonged to my deceased client because she’d given me the combination to the lock. My client’s name was Rosamund Harding.”
“The Olympic diver?”
“Yes.”
“And you say she gave you the combination?”
“She gave me an apple with the wordFAITHcarved into it. At the time, I had no idea that the letters were the combination to a lock.”
“When did you figure out that’s what it was?”
“After Rosamund died. The same day, the police came to empty out a locker she rented by the month. There was nothing in there but her gym clothes and supplies.”
“Wait—thepolicecame to clear out her locker?”
“Yeah, I thought that was unusual, too. Why would it be so important to empty her locker the same day she died? I wondered if they were looking for something specific. When they left, it occurred to me that Rosamund could have had something hidden in another locker—one of the day-use lockers that wasn’t rented under her name. So I took a look, and sure enough, there was an unrented locker with a five-letter combination lock on it. I almost went out to buy a pair of bolt cutters until I remembered the apple. I tried the wordFAITH, and the lock opened right away.”
“And the Polaroid of the girl found at Danskammer Beach was the only item in the locker?”
“Yes. And in the picture, the girl was nude.”
Josh stopped and cleared his throat. Jo realized they were about to pass the point of no return. Most people wouldn’t have had the guts to keep going. But Josh did. “Just to be clear—you found this nude photo in a locker you believe was being used by Rosamund Harding, the recently deceased wife of Spencer Harding, the noted art dealer?”
“Yes. I’m convinced that Rosamund hid the photo at my gym to keep it safe. I think she was afraid of her husband and the men who worked for him.”
“Do you believe Spencer Harding may have had something to do with the death of the girl whose body was found on Danskammer Beach?”
“I can’t think of any other reason for Rosamund to have the picture.”
“Did you call the police when you found the photo?”
“Of course,” Jo said. “They say there’s not enough evidence to look into Spencer Harding.”
“Have they questioned him?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Jo said.
“Why wouldn’t they question him?”
“I don’t know,” Jo said. “What I do know is that after I foundthe photo, a man broke into my house in the middle of the night. I caught him in my daughter’s room. He’d—” She stopped to wipe away tears. “She was bound and gagged when I found her. Now the man responsible is sitting in the Mattauk jail, refusing to say a word.”
“Why do you think he broke into your house?”
“I’m convinced Spencer Harding sent him there to kidnap my daughter. I believe he wanted to scare me and my friends away from looking into the death of the girl at Danskammer Beach.”
“Is your daughter safe now?”
It was a simple question, but it hit Jo hard. Nessa reached over and took her hand as Jo choked back a sob.
“For now. The only way to keep her safe for good is to send Spencer Harding’s evil ass to jail, and I’m not going to rest until it happens.”
“Neither will I,” Josh Gibbon told her. “And I won’t rest until the girls at Danskammer Beach have names. To all of you out there, thanks for listening. There’s obviously much more to this story, and we’ll be putting it all together in the days to come.”
The First and Last Time Mandy Welsh Broke a Promise
Mandy had never seen a Maybach before. As far as she knew, it was just another nice car with dark windows. When it pulled up beside her on the road that ran along Danskammer Beach, she took a step away toward the scrub. A half mile back, she’d spotted a trail that snaked through the trees to the water and an old man fishing where the waves met the shore. Mandy had always been a fast runner. If she kicked off her shoes, she could make it back there in minutes.
Then the window lowered. “You must be Mandy.” The man behind the wheel was handsome. Mandy’s mother had warned her not to trust handsome men.
