Porter 1
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by RI A
Started reading February 9, 2018
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one a small town the likes of Washington had never seen before. The doors and windows to the apartment were all locked and sealed; there were no signs of forced entry. At first the local police believed that it was the work of the husband, but then the coroner unusually determined that both the husband and wife died at the same time. It was these signs that attracted Porter to the puzzling case.             He carefully and meticulously
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but he took one last look at the bed; he noticed that it was off centered a bit. He walked toward the top of the bed, near the headboard. He saw that the left side was pulled away from the wall, leaving it at an acute angle. Porter grabbed the headboard and pulled it further away from the wall. He searched the ground and found a small red pouch that was tied shut with strings. He picked it up and held it in his hand, he felt for the contents inside it. He felt, what
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obvious to Porter that Cullen blamed himself for his father’s death, even his mother’s death, but actually Porter did not blame him. Porter had told him countless times that he was not to blame, and if it was not for him he probably would not be alive. “Cullen like I’ve said before, I don’t blame you; I understand why you had to do it.” “I know, but it’s still hard.” He walked away, “you’ll understand one
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confused, I didn’t know who to trust.”             “You could have trusted me!” Cullen turned so he was facing Raphael. “Why didn’t you come to me, I could have helped you.”             “They told me if I came to you they would hurt you.” Raphael threw his finished cigarette down onto the ground. “I couldn’t see you hurt.”             “So you thought it was a better