The Running Girls(39)



As Laurie watched the lawyer drive Frank and Maurice away, it dawned on her that she would no longer be able to visit Frank in his house. He was an active suspect now, and she would only be able to see him on police business. She hadn’t appreciated how much she’d enjoyed those visits, and she was surprised by the intensity of her sadness now that they were denied to her. She understood that talking to Frank had been a way of keeping close to David during a period where they were anything but. She’d learned some things about David’s childhood, and his relationship with his mother, both things David had always been reluctant to talk about. Ridiculous as it felt, without Frank in her life she wondered if she and David had any future together.



The thought occupied her during her run later that evening. Filmore had left for the night, and insisted her team go home and get some rest in preparation for the days ahead, but Laurie had been too hyped to sleep. She’d left her apartment building with no destination in mind but soon found herself following the same route Grace had taken on her final run. She’d stopped outside the Harrington house, and had considered checking in on the family, but it had been late and they would be in mourning. She tried to put herself in Grace’s position as she started her run again, imagining what it was like once more to be a pissed-off teenager and what would have motivated her to take a different route. The obvious answer to that was the lure of her ex-girlfriend, Mia Washington, who she’d spoken to on the day she’d gone missing. Mia had been informed of Grace’s death and would be at the station tomorrow for further questioning. Laurie ran by the girl’s apartment building and wondered what she was thinking. If she was anything like Laurie had been as a teenager, she would be shouldering all the blame for Grace’s death. It highlighted the unknown impact that unexpected death, especially violent unexpected death, had on the wider world. Grace’s death would be felt way beyond her immediate family and friendship circle. It would touch on everyone at her school and in the community. If Annie Randall’s death was anything to go by, it would rock the island city and the state for years to come. Even if it wasn’t needed, that was motivation enough for Laurie to make sure the person responsible was brought to justice.

Returning to the seawall, Laurie ran through a stiff crosswind that ruffled her clothing and stung her skin. It was painful to run in, but she refused to turn back. It was a challenge she welcomed, her lungs bursting, her muscles screaming in pain as she pushed through the invisible barrier.

She kidded herself she didn’t know where she was heading and let the lie play out even as she reached the turn onto Rebecca Whitehead’s street. It was beyond foolish, but she ran down the road and stopped two houses away. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve. Any sign of David being here would devastate her, but the masochistic side of her hoped to see him. She wanted the pain of not knowing to subside, and if that meant catching him in the act, then so be it.

For one ludicrous moment, she even considered climbing the stairs to the porch and ringing the bell. She wondered if Rebecca would know who she was, and if her eyes would betray her. Laughing to herself, she turned and retraced her route back to the seawall and charged again into the wind.

Returning inland, Laurie passed the spot on Sealy Avenue where the GPS signal on Grace’s Fitbit had cut out. She imagined a passing truck stopping and bundling Grace inside. For those practiced enough, it was a simple enough maneuver, and in the darkness, with little traffic, it was possible that it could have gone unnoticed.

By the time she returned to the Harrington house, she was forced to stop. Her running had been erratic tonight, her speed dictated by the power of the wind and the urgency of her thoughts, rather than her reliable steady pace. The lights inside the house were off and she hoped Glen and Sandra were able to have some sort of rest. Tomorrow was going to be difficult for all of them, their grief tempered by the ongoing murder investigation, which Glen was about to become directly involved in.

Laurie walked away from the house, waiting for her breath to return. She’d put to the back of her mind Filmore’s concern over Glen Harrington’s future, but now it returned and left a bitter taste in her mouth. Glen hadn’t technically done anything illegal, and Laurie’s years in law enforcement had taught her not to take a moralistic high ground, but the fact that he was having relations with young women the same age as his daughter was definitely a red flag she had to investigate. It might not be a motive for him to kill his daughter, but what if his attraction to the young women was related to an unnatural obsession with his daughter? Laurie had seen it before, and she needed to find out more about Glen Harrington. As far as she was concerned, his reputation could be damned. It would be easy to focus all their attention on Frank Randall, but at that moment she thought Glen Harrington was a worthy secondary suspect.

That notwithstanding, she had sympathy for the family as a whole. At the very least, Glen’s dalliances would inadvertently reflect on Sandra, and would cheapen Grace’s death. Laurie wished there was something she could do to stop that happening, but press management wasn’t her job.

She returned toward the gulf, upping her pace until she was running again, thoughts of Grace’s death bringing back memories of Milly. As her legs found a steady rhythm, she wondered for the millionth time what Milly would be like now. She’d probably be taking her first steps, and uttering her first words. It would never get any easier to accept that she’d never even taken a breath, that her little body had ceased to live in her womb. With all the monstrosities in the world, it still seemed brutally unfair that her little girl could be taken away without even enjoying the simple act of filling her lungs.

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