Wrestling the Kraken

Stavo

Stavo

Stavo walked into his sister's house. Angie sat with Mahone's daughter by the coffee table, helping her with homework. She looked up at him, then returned her attention to middle school science- she was still upset. It had been two days since the incident with the professor and he knew she was going to need some time processing it. He had asked her to trust him and he let her down. There were just no words to fix that.

Mahone sat in a recliner with a pencil and a pad. There was more news to be delivered and he had no idea how Mahone was going to react. Stavo took a seat next to him, leaned forward, scratching the side of his nose.

"Just say it." Mahone said, not looking up. He was busy sketching something up in the pad.

"You're freaky with that you know." Stavo said.

"You always scratch your nose when you're trying to figure out how to say something you don't want to say."

Stavo sat back in the chair and sighed. "Am I that obvious?" He said, turning his head to look at Mahone.

"Mmhmm."

"Well...they found the Rose Killer."

"You mean Ms. Cordova? They caught her?" Mahone asked, stopping his sketch and looking up. He still couldn't believe the name Vito gave up, even though it had been one of the theories they came up with. Jealous ex-girlfriend was a classic set up.

The reason he couldn't believe it, though, was because it came from Vito. Vito never talks, had refused to talk the whole time, and then just like that gives up the name of his partner for a reduced sentence? It was a bad deal. He could sense it.

"Yessir."

"Well, is she talkin'? Come on out with it." Mahone asked. He was especially interested in learning more about the storage unit found in her name. There were plenty of photos dating back a while, files on locations where the bodies were found, and several wigs and outfits.

He thought about the redhead he went after in the alley and tried to place Vivianne in her stead. It didn't match. Either his memory was off or Vivanne was too tall, more...filled in.

"No, she ain't talkin'. She can't. She's dead."

Mahone took a deep sigh. "Of course she is." He went back to his sketch. "Let me guess, suits are packing up?"

"As we speak. Case closed."

"Nah. This ain't the end of it." Mahone said. He knew in his gut that this was far from over. Tossing the pad down on the seat, he got up and headed to the kitchen. The papers fluttered as they settled, revealing a sketch of a ring with a diamond shape, question marks all around it.