Tyler glances at me, and I meet her gaze before she addresses Porscha again. “‘Good boy" is a term of endearment, or control. Was that how you viewed your relationship? You controlled him?”
“Please,” Porscha repeats, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t psychoanalyze me now. You’ve all had plenty of chances to do that. Ask better questions and maybe you’ll find your answers.”
“You know once this goes to trial you’ll be asked the same questions all over again,” I say, glancing towards her attorney. For the most part he’s quiet during these interrogations, but he always seems to jump in anytime Porscha gets chatty. “It’ll be like this but worse with an audience-”
“Worse,” she snorts, laughing. “Don’t you mean better? I get fanmail you know, Agent. People adore me, and they don’t even understand me. Do you think the people watching will want me to pay for my crimes, or be left alone in my peace?”
“Any so-called fans can’t be on a jury,” Tyler interrupts. “You will still be held accountable for your crimes.”
Porscha grins then, leaning across the table to eye each of us in turn. “Well, Agents, what exactly are those crimes? Can you name them all?
“I have no idea, Sir,” I admit. “Had she not come out of hiding, we never would’ve caught her. No one was investigating this case.”
“She never hinted at a reason for resuming the kills?” he presses.
“If there was a trigger here, we haven’t found it,” I agree. “There was no big news, nothing of interest going on that should’ve drawn her back here. Constantine wasn’t ever going up for parole, so it can’t be that. I haven’t found any events in Jo or Vinny’s lives that would’ve caused an uproar for her. Everyone was living their lives and then she decided to kill Estrada.”
Pabst nods, studying the wall in front of him. There’s so much left to determine, so many things we could still uncover that could be used in court. So much that Porscha should have to pay for.
“Focus on getting enough evidence we can hand it over to the DA,” he says, rocking back on his heels. “Ensure that we figure out how each of the new victims died and that we can give the families closure before this heads to court. Determine if the Nunes’ played a substantial part in Porscha’s story. And if she killed the former ME, make sure that death makes it onto the court docket.”
I frown. “Sir?”
“We can run further interviews with Porscha from our offices once things settle here, but I would like you to narrow the search to the new eight,” Pabst repeats. “Although I understand why you are determined to get her to confess to other murders, we need to ensure that we have everything possible to nail her for the ones we’re certain beyond a reasonable doubt that she is at fault for. This will help us lock up someone guilty of multiple murders. The previous cases add to her death toll, but the evidence is old now. Not all of it was absolutely certain.”
“Like the original team wasn’t sure if they were right picking Constantine as the killer?” I counter.
He sighs, moving to the kitchen table to sit down. It’s covered in papers, but he doesn’t seem bothered by them. “Sterling, your father spearheaded that case. Any of the concerns that he had were crushed under Constantine’s admission. Some circumstantial evidence didn’t make him guiltless. Death doesn’t make him guiltless either.”
I hesitate, thinking over what he’s said. The main issues at the end of the original CGS case included the timeline for the first victim, Odell, and how Alastair trapped both a mother and daughter in the cellar before ending one.
Looking back at the wall again, I think carefully before responding. “You want us to give up on the case, sir?”
“No,” he says, still looking around at all the evidence. I can feel that we’re close, it’s all just a matter of time. “We need an official ID on the bones, not just circumstantial evidence of Nunes’ ID at the home and his disappearance. How’s the coroner here doing with that?”
“His best,” I admit.
Pabst sighs, nodding slowly. “Okay. Then if it’s taking time to get more information, I suggest you give your team the day off. I understand you’ve given them weekends, but I think a day not looking at any of this would help you all. We need to get our facts straight and not mess this one up.”
I eye him as he stands, wondering just who’s breathing down his neck that he’s so stressed over my case. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” he says, and I regret asking. “Get me an update on what happened to that professor that was in the wind last we chatted. What was her name?”
“Artemis,” I say, surprised. “Do you suspect her of something?”
“I don’t want anything falling through the cracks,” he admits, standing as he brushes off his pants. “I want there to be zero questions when this case finishes. If you don’t get it to me today, send it after your day off.”
It feels wrong to even consider a day off when we just buried Alastair. I don’t want to consider giving up or taking time off when Porscha is still sitting in the women’s prison downstate, giving her insanity plea all she can to get off on every single case she’s being accused of. She’s alive and trying to warp the system, and it pisses me off.
“A day off, Sterling,” Pabst says again, heading towards the door. “I mean it. The worst crimes are solved when you take a step back and let your mind breathe.”
Chapter 12
“You have to turn around.”
He’s ignoring me, standing by the grave. It’s sunny instead of cloudy, and that feels like the weather is mocking me again. Doesn’t the sun know the world is darker without my Alastair in it?
I keep trying to walk over to him, but the cemetery feels so much bigger than I remember.
