Page 51 of What's Left of Us

I don’t know why Alastair killed those women. He died before I could ask.

“Porscha’s made some enemies in prison,” Xeno goes on, and I focus on him again. “You think I don’t know what’s going on with her?”

“I’m sure you keep tabs,” I tell him dryly. “But since I’m leaving, and you’ve made it clear our problems aren’t of your concern, you should leave it be. Porscha is a mess you don’t want to deal with.”

Xeno frowns, tilting his head. “You don’t want her to disappear?”

“Do you mean kill her?” I ask.

“Disappearing doesn’t always mean death,” he says knowingly, and I straighten at his words. “You have to look at all the signs, brother, and find the truth yourself. If you want Porscha to no longer be a problem, you need only ask.”

I narrow my eyes. “Porscha is in a state prison. You might have contacts and power, Xeno, but even you can’t break the system. Right now, she’s suffering because she can’t be free. With the way things are going, I doubt she ever will be.”

He smirks. “Who said I couldn’t break the system, brother? I have friends in plenty of places, Vinny. Instead of turning my adversaries to enemies, I built alliances. When Massimo is no longer a problem, the family will be stronger for it.”

I let his words settle over me, thinking of everything he said. Xeno is purposefully not saying something, but I can’t see where all the vague clues lead to. “Why did you mention the militia of all things?”

He shrugs. “Our trade partners extend outside Florida, you know. I didn’t say any of it was legal. You can move a lot of things if you know how to do it.”

“Right,” I say slowly, thinking it over. My brother wouldn’t, and shouldn't, hint at anything he doesn’t mean.

“You’re going back to Colorado soon?” he continues. “By next week?”

“Yes,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes again. He’s no longer watching me, leafing through the pages on the desk. “Probablyjust a few days. Porscha’s case will continue without us needing to be here, and everything else about the CGS doesn’t involve us. Sterling even mentioned that the case against her will probably drag on for years since she’s denying and dodging everything.”

Xeno just nods. “Let me know when you book your flight home. I’ll be sure to send a gift ahead for your arrival.”

“What kind of gift?”

He smiles, and that viciousness from a few minutes ago is gone. “One you’re going to love.”

Chapter 15

For my final few days in Citrus Grove, I decide to make it my mission to fuck with as many lives as possible. They’ve fucked with mine, so I can at least return the favor. And some of these people are really in need of a good dose of Karma.

We have every intention of speaking with Porscha one last time, our version of a Hail Mary. She’s stubborn, and her attorney is good enough to keep her from revealing all the things I’m certain she’s trying to hide when we visit her. I’d love more physical evidence, but right now we’re going with what we have because Porscha cannot be allowed to get away with this.

“Do you think Dr. Briggs is right?” Gabe asks, shuffling along with me. He’s mostly healed now, and after listening to the ME talk to us early this morning he’s once more convinced that Porscha is behind more than just the new murders. She’s a manipulator, reminding me of what she told me at the house.

Jo’s mother has tendencies to document how people act, react, and used to keep detailed notebooks on how people are supposed to behave. More times than not Porscha’s attitude and reactions are unusual, and I have some ideas about what that could mean but nothing provable until the court orders apsychoanalysis; it’s been requested but nothing is in the works yet.

Cases take time, and right now we’re running out of exactly that in Citrus Grove. When we go back to Quantico I won’t allow this case to slip through the cracks just because we’re no longer in Florida.

Stepping out of the car, Gabe and I head towards the women’s correctional facility. I won’t miss my visits here, and from my understanding this is the max prison utilized in Florida for female offenders. Porscha will never return to Citrus Grove, and by all accounts she should be here for the remainder of life.

“Agent Lapin! Agent Gideon!”

We pause, turning as one at the sound of her voice. I recognize it before I see her, and Gabe groans as he hisses under his breath. “Oh no.”

Beverly Heather appears from between the cars, waving at us. She looks younger than usual, her hair twisted up into two high ponytails that really make her look out of place in a prison parking lot. The wind sends the ends of her hair into her face and she brushes them back, her eyes fixated on Gabe.

I try to hide my smirk. We’ve gotten several tips from Beverly on the tipline, all of which we take with a grain of salt since she’s a little… unorthodox. I don’t trust her after she made a bullshit report following Alastair’s arrest, but she’s persistent. She’s mentioned everything from knowing Porscha to beingfriendswith Porscha, and all in all she seems unreliable. She appears to make facts and so-called answers come out of thin air without being able to back them up, and with all the uncertainties in this case we can’t depend on anyone who doesn’t have solid answers. If she ever provides something substantial we can prove I think she would be an okay witness, but she’s easily distracted whenever we’ve spoken. I don’t think we could depend on her if Porscha’s lawyer tried to question her.

“Hi, Agent Lapin,” she says, clasping her hands behind her back. Her eyes are lasered in on him, and I could be invisible at this point. “I have some new info to share.”

He rocks back on his heels, putting a little more distance between them. “Ms. Heather, why don’t you call the tipline? We are on a schedule right now and we have a meeting to get to-”

“It’s about Porscha,” she cuts in, popping out one hip to glare at him. Again, she seems to have forgotten we’re both here. “I know she’s the only reason why you two would visit here, and I can help.”

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