Page 69 of The Change
Franklin didn’t rush his response. He sat back and seemed to think it through.
“You did the girl’s hair at the funeral home?” he asked.
“Of course I did!” Nessa had to stop to blow her nose. “I couldn’t let her meet Jesus looking like some old white man did her hair.”
“Did you ever consider maybe that was all the proof she needed?” Franklin asked. “I think it showed her how much you care. She trusts you to take it the rest of the way.”
Nessa looked over to make sure he was serious, though she’d never known him to be anything but. She’d worked around sick people long enough to tell the difference between words intended to make you feel better—and words meant to convey the truth. Franklin wasn’t just pumping sunshine. Whether he was right or not, he meant what he said. “You think?” she asked.
“I really do,” he said.
Nessa sniffled. “But what am I going to do now that she’s in the ground and the case is closed? How am I supposed to find the person who killed her?”
“Did you gather DNA at the funeral home like you said you would?” Franklin asked.
She shot him a wary glance before she answered. “Yes,” she admitted. He hadn’t approved when she’d mentioned her plan, but she’d taken a few strands of the girl’s hair, anyway.
“And I suppose you’ve still got Laverne Green’s coffee cup?”
She nodded. “In a plastic bag on my kitchen counter.”
“Okay,” Franklin said. “After the funeral, let’s get the hair and the cup to a lab. The first thing we’ll need to do is prove that the two women aren’t related.”
“Are you saying you believe me now?”
“Yes,” Franklin said, letting the word drop as if he knew exactly how much it weighed. “I sent Laverne Green an invite to the funeral like you asked me to. I even offered to drive into the city to pick her up. I never heard back from her.”
“That’s because she was lying.”
“If so, the test will confirm it.”
“Are you going to get in trouble for doing all of this?” Nessa asked. “The case is supposed to be closed.”
He could get in trouble—she saw it in his eyes. Franklin wasn’t a renegade. He was patient, methodical, strictly by the book. Hebelieved in process. He believed in the law. And yet she knew what he was about to say. He was going to throw all that out the window for her.
“You told me the girl was murdered, and that there are two other girls out there whose bodies haven’t been discovered. I believe you, and I want to catch the man responsible before he kills anyone else. If that gets me in trouble, so be it.”
It was exactly what she’d expected from him. Nessa looked down at their hands, still woven together.
“God gave you a gift, Nessa,” Franklin said. “Now he’s brought us together twice. I think it’s pretty clear that I’m supposed to help you. I think that’s what I was sent to do.”
Franklin wiped a tear from her cheek with his free hand. Then he leaned over and kissed her. It wasn’t hurried or anxious like the kiss Nessa had given him. Franklin wasn’t conflicted. He knew what he wanted, and Nessa got the feeling he’d wanted it for a very long time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “This is neither the time nor the place.”
“I don’t think you’re sorry,” Nessa told him.
Franklin smiled. “You’re right. I’m not.”
He leaned back in toward Nessa, and this time she met him halfway. She thought of the spark Harriett had said was inside her. She’d taken it for a metaphor, but now she wasn’t so sure. Something inside her felt like it was burning bright.
The kiss lasted only a few seconds. Then Franklin was out of his seat and walking around the car to open her door. She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. As they walked side by side across the graveyard, she was still glowing. Once, she might have felt guilty to feel so alive with the dead all around her. Now she knew she’d need that light for the darkness ahead.
Harriett had wanted to bury the girl in her garden, but that would have broken a dozen laws and the morgue had refused to deliver the body to Woodland Drive. So she’d purchased space in a local graveyard instead. When she took Jo and Nessa to see the plot, they were surprised to find that Harriett had picked a barren corner on a hill overlooking the highway for the girl’s final resting place.
“Are you sure this is the best spot?” Nessa had asked. There was no shade in sight and the grass beneath their feet was brown and brittle. “There are plots on the other side of the cemetery with flowers and trees.”
“I bought three plots side by side,” Harriett had told her. “That should be enough room for what I have in mind. Don’t worry about grass. There will be plenty of that soon enough.”
