Police are concerned that this recent abduction could be tied to the Mogul Massacre cases happening across the country.
[Connecticut, June 18th] Jonah Grant, son of prominent attorney Phillip Grant, has gone missing from his home in east Connecticut. A former student at Ridgeview Preparatory Academy, Mr. Grant was well known throughout the state for his championship record on the lacrosse team. Recently, he had been out on bail while fighting allegations of assault posted by an online source.
Mr. Grant was last seen in his home on Thursday evening at around 10 p.m. Between the hours of 10:00 and 11:30 that night, a person entered the residence and left with Mr. Grant. The Ring security camera had been disconnected, so no surveillance footage is available. In addition, all the cameras on the street appear to have been hacked and did not provide any necessary leads.
“We’re taking a close look at any ties this may have to the murders across the country of prominent men,” said Detective Michael Mills, Federal Bureau of Investigation. “Considering Mr.Grant’s connections within in the community, he may have been the target of the same individuals responsible for other crimes. The Bureau is investing significant manpower to bring this boy home to his father.”
If you have any information on this case, call the tip line at 555.225.5555.
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20
When we arrive at the airport the next morning, I call Jackson, but I only get his voicemail. I leave him a message to let him know we’re heading to Connecticut, but I don’t give out the details just in case.
The girls and I scour the internet, but every story is about the Mogul Massacre. Jackson had planned to meet privately with the police chief, so it makes sense that the story about his father and the town being abandoned hasn’t hit the news. Instead, all the screens in the airport are turned to a news program talking about the other investors’ deaths.
“A dog with a bone,” Marcella says, turning away from the television screen. “They just can’t get enough of this story. Why are they hyping it up so much? It’s like they’re trying to panic men. Don’t they know how dangerous that is?”
Just as she says that, the news program announces their next guest, a spokesperson from the United Gun Organization.
“Yes,” Sydney says to Marcella. “It seems they do.”
We’re grateful when they call our flight, but flying is just as awful as I remember. Sydney sits next to me, gripping my hand the entire time. Across the aisle from us, Marcella will occasionally look over, wide-eyed, at every bump. Brynn keeps her eyes closed, her window shade down. When we finally land, we all let out a heavy sigh.
“Next time, let’s take a train,” Marcella says, grabbing her bag from the overhead bin before starting down the aisle.
We get into the airport in Connecticut and it’s like déjà vu considering most of us were just here a couple of days ago. But so much has changed in us since then. We no longer have an analyst. There’s no longer a corporation.
In reality, we’re free to go. We could ignore all of the humans if we wanted to. But the pull of saving the other girls is dragging us back into the fight. And I guess if there’s ever a reason to fight, it’s for them.
Sydney rents a car and we head toward Rosemarie’s house, the air thick with anticipation, worry. We didn’t tell Leandra when we landed. As far as she knows, we’re still in Colorado thinking it over. To her credit, I’m sure it won’t take her long to catch on.
In the passenger seat, I check my phone—still nothing from Jackson. I’m worried, hoping that he’s okay. Sydney has me call Quentin and there’s no answer there either. Marcella assures us that they’re both fine; she studied quite a bit about criminal justice when we were investigating the Ridgeview boys.
“They probably have their phones on silent,” she says. “And Quentin might still be interviewing. They’ll call soon.”
We continue out of town until we find the turn for Rosemarie’s driveway. Brynn leans forward between the seats, looking around at the beauty of the flowers dotting the landscape and then thickening the closer we get to her cabin.
“Wow,” Brynn says without even realizing it. There is a car parked in the driveway, and I have a flash of worry when I recognize it’s the same car that Lennon Rose used to kidnap Garrett Wooley. For a moment, I see a flash of memory from his death, the extreme violence of it, the guilt I felt afterward. I shake my head as if I can shake off the memory.
“I wonder what happened to Lennon Rose,” Brynn says solemnly. “And I wonder if she’ll ever come home to us.”
None of us answer, not sure which Lennon Rose we’d get if she did come home.
My heart is beating too quickly, my nerves frayed. I’m not sure I’m ready to confront Rosemarie. It occurs to me that I’ve experienced so much trauma, and it’s all suddenly caught up to me. I don’t feel very brave anymore.
Sensing it, Sydney reaches to put her hand on my knee, steadying me. The pressure brings me back to myself. I look at her, and we nod at each other.
It’s almost over. We can do this.
I fold down the vanity mirror to check my reflection, and immediately notice Brynn sitting in the backseat looking determined, her eyes narrowed, her jaw tight. She’s here for the othergirls, and if Rosemarie tries to stand in her way, she’ll go through her. She’s ready to fight.
I flip up the mirror just as Sydney parks the car in front of the cottage. We wait a moment to figure out what we’re going to say. Sydney and I turn around to look at the others in the backseat.
“Rosemarie has a way of getting under your skin,” I tell them, looking from Brynn to Marcella. “Don’t let her. She’s focused on the long game, but we have to convince her that it doesn’t have to end in violence. So be polite and kind, it’ll set her at ease. And then, we appeal to her sense of justice or motherhood, I’m not sure. It’s possible she can be convinced. She’s smart—she’ll see it’s the stronger choice. But even if she doesn’t want to help, she might say something we can use. So pay attention to everything. Got it?”
“And if she attacks us?” Brynn asks. “Trying to reset us or get inside our heads?”
