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Jo scowls. I like that she’s kept her pretty hair long. I can still remember the smell of it burning and thought maybe she would keep it short after that. But it’s long and free, falling down her back just like it did when we were teenagers. Despite how hot it is she’s covered from head to toe again. Her top is flowy but it covers her to her collarbone, and the flowy sleeves hang down to her fingertips.
I sit forward, resting my elbows at my knees as I openly stare.
Vinny stays silent beside her, glaring through the glass. He looks tense, hands fisted at his sides, and more ink than I remember covering his skin. He’s kept his hair buzzed short, so he truly does look almost the same as he did in high school. Stress from me almost killing his girlfriend apparently didn’t last, and when my eyes bounce between them I can almost believe we’re all still newly graduated, before everything fell apart.
He’s all dark angles compared to her lighter curves, but the scars must tell a different tale when they’re visible. She’s hidden them well, and the layers upon layers of clothing looks sweltering. She never used to hide herself before all of this.
“The agents seem to think you’re going to spill your truth to us just because we’ve graced you with our presence,” Jo says, her words sharp and short. “So spill. Give them something good so we can get the hell out of here.”
I click my tongue. There’s that fire I love. “Killer, we’ve just gotten started.”
“Do notspeak to my wife like that,” Vinny snaps, forcing my attention to him again. There’s hate in his eyes, and if I had to guess he’s imagining strangling me. A smirk pulls at my lips despite that burning hatred radiating off of him. “Just answer the questions and we’ll leave.”
“Aww, why would I want to do that? This is the most fun I’ve had since the last time I saw Jo.”
They exchange a glance. Looking behind them it’s impossible to tell if the agents gave them a script to follow or not, but I can’t imagine they are just free-balling it. Sterling is half turned to us like he’s listening, but he’s still off to one side with Jensen talking to the guards. I really want to know what that’s about.
“You two aren’t much fun,” I pout, filling the silence when they don’t. “Come on, a lifetime later and you have nothing to say to me? Surely you want to get something off your chest, Jo.”
Her brow twitches, but she remains remarkably calm. I hope it takes her a whole lot of effort to not react to me. “You aren’t worth the effort.”
That stings more than I expect, so I just narrow my eyes and glance at Vinny. One of them is going to give me something. “How’s your sister? I hear through the grapevine that she attends the university down the road? Maybe we’ll be buddies sometime if she joins the psych program.”
“Wouldn’t get your hopes up,” he tells me dryly. “Echo thinks psychology is a load of shit.”
I snicker at that. There we are! Finally, some banter.
Jo clears her throat before speaking again. “A - Alastair,” she begins, tripping over my name, “tell us who you told about the kills. Let’s put an end to this.”
I wave a finger at her. “Sorry, Jo. Can’t do that. Can’t out someone I never spoke to.”
They look at each other again, and now I have the attention of everyone. The phones are supposed to keep our conversation private, but it isn’t lost to me that we’re the only ones in here right now and I can hear my voice echoing.
Vinny grunts. “What do you mean?”
There it is, the words burning on the tip of my tongue. I could unravel all of my history and give every agent back there a stroke. But it just isn’t thetime.My truth, as Jo called it, will be revealed only when I’m certain it’ll suit me the most. “I didn’t tell a soul, lovebirds. Who knew the details of the case before?”
“Agents?” Jo says automatically, her brows scrunching together. “Cops?”
I shrug, leaning back in the chair. The cuffs click together when I point to my mouth, mirroring zipping and locking my lips with a shrug.
“Stop playing around,” Vinny barks. “What are you telling us?”
I grin. They care about me more in this moment than in fifteen years. “Can’t say for sure. I’m in a cell. And my copycat is going off book. You should look into the changes.”
Jo slaps her hand against the tabletop on her side and I grin wider. I love that spirit in her. “No! No games. We’re not looking at anything. Tell us the truth.”
“The truth only matters if there’s support to make it believable. Find the clues, you’ll see the truth.”
I don’t know if my theory is correct anyway. I can guess all day who is out there killing people, but I know it’s not someone I’ve spoken to since lockup. I don’t usually give this much away in a meeting, and I can see the other two agents sitting forward in their chairs as they listen. Somehow, this conversation is being either recorded, projected, or both.
After all, my thoughts are only a theory. I need solid proof to back it up, and sharing that with the agents has no benefit to me at this point. I need a slam dunk to be convinced to share with them, and if I’m right it’ll change everything.
“But you’re crazy!” Fake Porscha screams, standing behind Sterling. She looks so out of place over there. “Crazy, crazy, crazy. A dreamer who makes no sense. Your thoughts are hopes not truth.”
Even my damn mind doesn’t want to be on my side about this.
“Then make it believable,” Vinny says, catching my attention again. He’s tilted his chin down, obscuring the tattoo across his throat, and one eyebrow arches up. “If it’s the truth, don’t you want someone to be on your side because of it?”