Portia knew deep in her soul that her father was behind the Vyne scheme. The unregistered bank account likely belonged to him. Unfortunately, the only other person the scientists had named was the head of R&D, a Phillip Tremaine loyalist who’d committed suicide after she’d let him go. Now she had to wonder, had his death really been self-inflicted?
“Thank you... doctors.” It sickened her to use the title that they’d abused, but she needed to keep their cooperation.
“What about immunity?” Vance asked.
Portia stood. “I’ll get back to you on that. I still need to question them as well.” She pointed to the other holding cell where the street cookers were staring at her.
With that she turned on her heel and exited the cell. Conscious of the clear walls, she paused to catch her breath before she stepped into the second cell.
Chapter40
The maître d’smiled in recognition when Portia entered the restaurant. “Ms. Tremaine, how wonderful to see you. Please, follow me. Your party is already here.” As he led her past the other diners toward a more secluded table, her misgivings grew. Clutching her purse under her arm, she willed away her nerves.
This was so stupid. She shouldn’t be this nervous. Killian had called right after her mostly useless interviews with the street cookers. They hadn’t offered up much additional information, just the same story about burner phones and solid cuts of the profits. The lab building and equipment had been provided as well. Once again, her gut pointed to her father, but she had no proof. The only positive to come out of that interrogation was that the cookers didn’t appear to have connections to the organized gangs that ran some of the city’s drug rings.
Killian had caught her in a weak moment. She’d been so happy that he reached out, so thrilled to talk to a friendly face, that she’d immediately said yes. It wasn’t until after she’d hung up that the doubts had begun.
Was she ready to have dinner with Killian and his new wife—her sister!—in public? She could only imagine the headlines if the newsies found out.
“Your table, madam.” He gestured toward a table partially hidden by a cascade of plants. Killian and Dizzie smiled at her approach.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice betraying none of her inner turmoil.
The maître d’ faded away and Portia was left facing her dinner companions.
“It’s good to see you, Portia.” Killian stood and placed his hand on the empty chair to pull it out for her.
An overwhelming sense of wrongness washed over her. She and Killian had frequently dined here, but Tommy had been their third. To see Dizzie in his place...
Her lungs froze. Suddenly she couldn’t get enough air. She couldn’t do this. “I’m sorry...” she blurted, before she turned and raced to the restrooms.
On autopilot, Portia smiled and nodded hello when people greeted her, but nothing stopped her until she reached the doors to the ladies’ lounge.
She flew through the doors—ignoring the startle gasps of the women in the lounge—and ran right into a sleek wooden stall. In her haste, the stall door banged closed behind her. She flinched, then locked it with shaking hands.
Portia hung her purse on the hook and watched it swing erratically back and forth while she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding hard enough to burst out of her chest.
“Are you okay?” someone asked quietly from outside.
Portia sucked in enough oxygen to be able to answer. “Yes,” she said, forcing false cheer into her voice. “Just, uh, in a hurry.”
The woman laughed sympathetically. “We’ve all been there.”
Portia clamped a hand over her mouth to keep a hysterical laugh from escaping.
She couldn’t do this.
Howwas she supposed to do this for the rest of her life?
How was she supposed to look across the table—a table without Tommy—and see Dizzie?
But it wasn’t just that. When she, Tommy, and Killian had dined together, Killian had been the third wheel. Now she occupied that role and to be honest, she hadn’t expected it to hurt this badly.
Dabbing her eyes with a wad of toilet paper, Portia stared at the wooden door. How was she supposed to go out and face them after running away like that? All she wanted to do was disappear into the floor.
Just when it had felt like she had things under control, the universe had knocked her back down. Her laugh turned into a sob.
Portia didn’t know how long she stayed in there. Voices came and went until, finally, she didn’t hear anyone else.
