Gabe glances my way, and I just shrug. We may as well hear her out since we’re here. He blows out a breath before nodding to her. “What do you have?”
She perks up, her arms vibrating as she struggles to keep them at her sides, and I almost think she’s resisting the urge to clap. “Well you know how Porscha used to be a teacher?”
I bite my tongue to keep from correcting her toprofessorsince it was all a sham anyway. “We’re aware.”
“Well, that’s how she met my Aunt Ylonda,” Beverly continues, and my interest perks up. Tyler called her and vaguely got her to talk about Ylonda Artemis’s involvement with Porscha, but the professor lawyered herself up and won’t speak to us about anything. The DA has a subpoena for her to attend one of the court appearances as a witness, but that’ll be sometime after we’re back in Quantico.
Beverly digs in her bag, pulling something out before she continues. “They were totally close, you know? Auntie is going to flip when she finds out I spoke with you but that’s okay, because we’re going to nail Porscha, right?”
Gabe clears his throat. “We just want the truth, Ms. Heather.”
“Well, I think Porscha needs to pay,” she huffs, handing what looks to be a photo over to Gabe. “If I help, you’ll be able to get her for killing Candy?”
Gabe’s looking down at the photograph, but I focus on her. “Who is Candy?”
She scowls. “Candace Swan. She was my favorite of The Slayers and now she’s gone. She’s one of the new victims.”
Right. When Beverly says her real name I recognize it right away. I’m careful with my response, her eyes narrowed on me like she’s expecting me to mess up. “The case is still ongoing, Ms. Heather. We haven’t forgotten any of the victims.”
Beverly nods like she expected me to say that, and Gabe nudges my arm. Looking down, I study the picture as he holds it out to me.
It’s similar to the one that Soto mentioned finding online regarding the class James Nunes taught. He’s in the picture, standing beside a woman who appears to be around his age, her arms wrapped affectionately around him. They’re both dressed in playful costumes, and as I take a closer look, it seems to be Halloween.
Then there’s a woman who is definitely a younger version of Artemis—she hasn’t changed much over the years. Standing next to her is Porscha, both of them dressed up too.
My gaze lingers on Porscha. She doesn’t look pregnant here, but if the timeline is correct she either will be soon or she’s not far along. There are a few other faces in the group, but I ignore them as I lift the image and study Porscha more closely.
“Do you see what I see?” Gabe asks, and I can only nod.
I lower the photograph, eyeing Beverly. She’s looking at us with a grin. “Where did you get this?”
“It was on the wall of my Auntie’s house,” she says proudly, swaying. “I thought it might help.”
It will, but maybe not for the reasons she’s thinking. I finally look at the rest of the people in the photograph, who are all certainly important. Porscha can’t pretend she doesn’t know someone if she posed for a picture with them, and she’s standing pretty close to James.
My eyes fixate on her costume though. She’s wearing a tight, shiny dress, and if her hair wasn’t styled the way it was I might assume she was just dressed up for a regular day. But it’s tight and shiny and looks like she splattered fake blood on it. But maybe it’s real.
I’m staring at the knife in her hair. It’s impossible to tell in the old photo, but it doesn’t look like a plastic knock-off. There’s natural light in the image, and it seems to reflect off the blade, also caked in red. It's the wrong color to be real blood but I get chills just staring at teenage Porscha holding a bloody knife for fun.
It’s the size, though, that makes me do a double take. We’d need the real blade to analyze anything, but it seems to be the size of a hunting knife. You could buy something like that off any roadside stand in Florida or gas station in the 1990s.
“Can I borrow this,” I ask her, and Beverly lights up. She’s done everything she can to insert herself into our investigation, and as annoying as it is, this might prove to be useful. “It could help us.”
“Of course.” Beverly waves a hand, smiling at Gabe again. “Auntie hasn’t even noticed it's missing yet. Anything I can do to help.”
I tuck the photograph into my pocket as Gabe clears his throat. “Ms. Heather, how did you know we would be here? This is hours from Citrus Grove.”
“I live closer to Tallahassee,” she says, smiling.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” I narrow my eyes and give her my best stern agent look. She finally huffs, frowning at the ground before looking up, trying to rearrange her smile.
“I waited until I saw you leaving the town and drove this way too.”
My eyes snap to Gabe. He wanted to drive here, and I let myself get distracted on the way. Neither of us didn’t notice her following us all the way here? Beverly doesn’t seem dangerous right now, but a mistake like that could be fatal.
I’m off my game more than I thought. Once I leave this god forsaken state, I better be able to focus again. When Jo and Vinny are safe back in Colorado, and I return to my everyday routine in Virginia, maybe my head will be on straight again.
Gabe says something to Beverly but I don’t process the words. Now that the thought is there, I can’t make it disappear. Soon, Jo and Vinny will be gone. The lovebirds will be back in their safe world, living their lives together, and I’ll be alone in Quantico once again.
