Each member of the law enforcement who was present wore a black band across his or her shield. Even though my mind was blending the crowd together in response to my grief, the overt display of respect for a fallen comrade stood out and was impossible to ignore. Another salient observation was that among them, almost any local department I could readily name appeared to be represented here by at least one officer or detective, if not more.
With abrupt sharpness, a loud crack split the cool morning air, and my wife flinched at the sound. The members of the rifle squad moved smoothly through the ceremonious steps of lowering the weapons, then on cue, placing them back against their shoulders in preparation for firing the second volley of blanks.
Felicity leaned against me. I slipped my arm around her and held her tight; her body was tense, as if she was steeling herself against what we all knew was coming next. Even so, she started as the second round and then the third sounded their reports across the cemetery grounds.
Behind us, as the echoes faded, bagpipes began filling in the void, starting as a low hum that escalated into the melancholy strains of Amazing Grace. Felicity was trembling now, and even without looking I knew she was no longer holding her tears at bay. I shoved my hand inside my overcoat and sent it searching for a handkerchief. Finding the one I’d stashed in an inner pocket, I pulled it out and carefully dabbed her cheeks before slipping the square of cloth into her hand. She pressed herself harder against me and allowed her head to hang, chin against her chest as she quietly expressed her grief.
The rifle squad was now standing at attention, their weapons ordered at their sides, while the honor guard carefully removed the flag from the casket and proceeded to fold it into a tight triangle. I was having trouble containing my own tears at this point, but I took a deep breath and bit them back. I would have to find time to grieve later. Right now I needed to be strong for my wife. Even though “fragile” was almost never an accurate description where she was concerned, “temporarily breakable” definitely fit the bill at the moment. Emotionally she was still floundering in the dangerous wake of her own far too recent crisis, and that left her vulnerable. One of us had to hold it together awhile longer, and it might as well be me. She had seen me through my share of moments in recent years, and I owed her.
I hugged Felicity closer and allowed her to cry as I stared past the ranks in front of us. My eyes eventually settled on the casket at the center of the crowd. I could see Ben standing off to the side of it along with the other pallbearers. Of course, being six-foot-six, and full-blooded Native American, he would have been hard to miss even if he was with the rest of the masses.
One by one, the half dozen men came forward and placed their boutonnieres atop the casket. Then each of them stepped over to the row of seated family members and offered their personal condolences before continuing on and melting into the crowd. My friend was the last of them, and he lingered silently for several moments before finally placing his flower with the rest. At this distance it was hard to tell for sure, but I thought I could see the glisten of tears welling in his dark eyes too.
*****
“That was a nice service,” I commented, offering the platitude because I wasn’t really sure what else to say.
“Yeah,” Ben acknowledged, nodding his head slightly as he spoke. “Yeah… it was.”
We were standing on the walkway between the gravesite and the access road that ran through the cemetery. Ben’s van was parked nearby along one side of the narrow, paved stretch. Since Felicity and I had been farther behind in the procession, my truck was out of sight around the corner at the back of the memorial gardens.
People were still in the process of leaving, and we had decided to give them a few minutes to clear out before we added ourselves to the crush of traffic trying to exit onto the main road. I really didn’t mind the wait, especially since this was the first chance in several days that I’d had to speak with my friend at any length. Between everything that had happened only a few nights ago and him being so involved in the funeral arrangements, he had been scarce. Of course I couldn’t blame it all on him. We had been doing our fair share of hiding out as well, so it hadn’t been easy for him to reach us either.
There was a cold breeze blowing, and Felicity was snuggled in against me, trying to keep warm. I glanced to the side, then kissed her lightly on the forehead and hugged her close. Looking at her now, I had to admit that I was still getting used to the new hairstyle. While her loose curls had somewhat returned, and the temporary black dye was gone for the most part, it still left a dull patina, which made her normally fiery mane appear a darker auburn. And, of course, it was much shorter-now hanging only just past her shoulders instead of the longer waist length cascade it had been ever since I’d met her many years ago. The uncharacteristic coif certainly didn’t keep me from thinking she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon, but the current picture I saw with those eyes was definitely different from the one I remembered whenever they were closed.
Of course, we had all experienced radical change in the past month, both physical and emotional-some worse than others, and some far more permanent. With time, the physical issues would heal, become accepted as the norm, or return to their original states of being. The emotional changes were the wild card because exactly how the deeper alterations to our psyches would manifest still remained to be seen. For better or worse, we would just have to ride them out.
At the moment, my wife was keeping quiet amidst the halting conversation, and a dismal air still surrounded her just as it did all of us. Her sadness, however, was a bit more obvious as she was unconsciously broadcasting it with everything from her expression to her posture. At least the flow of tears had stopped, so I knew she was coping well enough that I didn’t need to worry about her too much for the moment. Still, I suspected her current state was influenced by far more than just the funeral. I knew it definitely was for me.
I turned my gaze back to my friend and said, “There were quite a few more cops here than I expected, considering.”
“Yeah, I know,” he grunted. “Me too. Turns out a bunch of ‘em even took vacation or comp time ta’ be here.”
“That says a lot.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Are you going to the house, then?” Felicity finally interjected, her voice soft.
“Prob’ly a little later,” he said, as he looked over at her with a quick nod and then glanced at his watch. “I told Constance’s parents I’d take ‘em ta’ lunch.”
“How are they handling everything?” she asked.
“‘Bout as well as can be expected under the circumstances, I guess. It’s not every day a fucked up serial killer shoots your kid.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sure it has to be a nightmare for them. Especially after losing their son.”
“Tell me about it. Her dad keeps goin’ on about how Constance was s’posed ta’ be a partner in ‘is law firm, not an FBI agent,” Ben added. “Her mom is kinda quiet though… Just stares off inta’ space a lot.”
“Everyone deals with their emotions differently, Ben.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, how is Constance doing anyway?” I asked.
“Hangin’ in there,” he replied. “You knew they upgraded ‘er from critical ta’ serious, right?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “That’s pretty much all anyone would tell us though.”
“Yeah, well the docs are optimistic right now, but she’s still kinda out of it. She’s been conscious enough ta’ talk a coupla times but nothin’ that makes sense. Then she just drifts off again. Prob’ly ‘cause of all the painkiller shit they got runnin’ into ‘er veins. I honestly dunno if she even realizes what’s goin’ on at this point, but I figure after lunch I’ll go sit with ‘er awhile anyway. That’ll give ‘er folks a chance ta’ rest too.”
“I thought they were only letting immediate family members in to see her?” I said with a questioning note in my voice.
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“Yeah, that’s what they said the first time I went in,” he grunted. “But I got a fuckin’ badge.”
“I thought you were still suspended?”
“Yeah, for a few weeks yet, but the hospital doesn’t know that.”
“Uh-huh, I should have figured.”
“Ben,” Felicity asked. “Since they won’t let us see her, can you keep us up to date on how she’s doing?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
I leaned to the side and looked around him at the line of cars. “Looks like they’re still backed up a bit.”
He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. It oughta’ be clear in a few though.”
A thick silence settled in around us as the breeze rose and fell. Felicity shivered against the sharp wind even though she was wearing a coat, so I hugged her even closer.
“Would you be more comfortable waiting in the truck?” I asked her.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
“You’re sure?”
“Aye,” she returned with a slight nod. “For now.”
I looked back to my friend after a short silence and nodded toward the distant gravesite. “You know, Ben, that was a real good thing you did. I mean the honor guard and all.”
“Wasn’t just me,” he objected with an animated shake of his head. “B’sides, didn’t really take much. All I did was make a coupl’a phone calls.”
“Something tells me there was more to it than that.”
“Maybe a little, but not much really once the ball was rollin’ and a few favors got called in. Shit, everyone that ever worked with Deckert loved ‘im.”
“He was a hell of a guy,” I agreed. “I’ll never forget how well he treated me even when the rest of the cops had issues with a Witch as a consultant.”
“Yeah, that was Deck, for sure. Which is exactly why we couldn’t let it go. Just ‘cause the department doesn’t do anything for retiree funerals doesn’t mean the rest of us coppers ain’t gonna make it happen anyway. He was one of ours. If anyone deserved it, it was him.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” I said with a nod. “I’m sure his wife appreciated it too.”
“Yeah, Mona’s good people,” he grunted as he reached up to smooth back his hair then allowed his hand to slide down and rest on his neck. He closed his eyes then gave his head a slight shake as he sighed, “Jeezus, Row… He was just sittin’ there lookin’ at the tube and had a goddamn heart attack. How fucked up is that?”
“Sometimes that’s how it happens. He had a history. That’s what forced him into retirement to begin with.”
“Yeah, but it was at almost exactly the same time, Row. There’s gotta be somethin’ to that.”
I knew exactly where he was heading with the comment, as he had mentioned it to me earlier at the funeral home, but at that point we hadn’t had time for discussion.
“It was just a coincidence, Ben.” I shook my head as I spoke. “There was no connection between what happened to Constance and Carl’s heart attack.”
“How do ya’ know that?”
“Well, I guess I really don’t. Not for an absolute fact, anyway.” I shrugged.
“So then why are ya’ bein’ a skeptic all of a sudden? Deck treated Constance like she was ‘is own daughter. Think about it…” He started ticking off points with the fingers of his free hand. “Damn near the same time. The ambulance brought Deck ta’ the same hospital as her instead of goin’ ta’ one of the closer ones out in the county. When he arrived he was stable. Then it all goes south for Constance while she’s on the table. The docs bring ‘er back, but suddenly Deck keels over right there in the treatment room, and they can’t revive ‘im. Hell, you’re the friggin’ Witch, not me. Ain’t this your kinda shit? You of all people can’t tell me that doesn’t seem a little Twilight Zone, white man. Like some kinda trade off or somethin’.”
I didn’t figure this was an appropriate time to argue with him over the realities of WitchCraft, or even my personal psychic abilities-something that I actually considered to be an unfortunate curse as opposed to a gift. Over the years I’d already explained to him more than a dozen times that magick didn’t work quite like he sometimes wanted to think it did. Of course, I was also well aware that I probably sounded like some kind of hypocrite every time I said as much, given that he had seen me unwillingly channel murder victims on several occasions. And of course, there was our most recent brush with the ethereal, which left even me wondering just what to believe. It was hard to convince someone that the paranormal wasn’t the everyday way of things when it seemed to rain down on you constantly the way it did with me.
Still, Ben had started out a skeptic the first time he’d enlisted my help, and he continued walking a jagged line between acceptance and doubt. At the moment, his path was obviously veering deeply into the belief side of the two, if for no other reason than to help him make sense out of tragedy. Of course, that was something we all had a tendency to do when faced with realities we weren’t sure we wanted to accept.
“Did Carl even know about Constance?” I asked.
“I dunno…” he shook his head. “Prob’ly not. I didn’t even know what was happenin’ with him until Mona called my cell, and he was already gone by then. But that’s not the point. What about some kinda divine intervention or somethin’?”
“I know that’s how it might look on the surface,” I told him. “Believe me, I’m not denying that at all. But we all know that looks can be deceiving. Maybe I’m wrong in this case, but not everything that happens is being influenced by some ethereal cosmic force. Sometimes a coincidence is just that, Ben. A coincidence.”
“You’re the last person on earth I’d expect ta’ say somethin’ like that, Row.”
“Yeah, I know. It does sound kind of strange coming from me, doesn’t it?”
“Uh-huh… Well, maybe you’re right, but that don’t make it any less weird-ass fucked up. Know what I mean?”
I let out my own sigh then hung my head and contemplated the asphalt surface of the pathway. “I’ll give you that.”
When I looked up again he was still frowning and massaging his neck. After a moment he let his hand drop then glanced at his watch again. Casting another gaze over his shoulder at the access road, he sighed, “Looks like it’s startin’ ta’ break up a bit. Should be in good shape in a minute or two.”
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod.
“Rowan, why don’t you go ahead and give me your keys then,” Felicity said, shivering as she spoke. “I think maybe I will go warm up in the truck. Besides, I’m sure I need to fix my makeup.”
“You’re pretty enough just like you are,” I told her but still dug around in my pocket and extracted the keys then handed them to her.
“Aye and you’re blind,” she returned. “I’d rather check for myself.”
I could hear in her voice that the words had been delivered on automatic. They were her pat response to being told she looked just fine, and right now she was too emotionally preoccupied for anything more interactive. I envied her that, but not in a begrudging sense. I would have a chance to take my feelings off hold later. I hoped.
In reality, her desire to wait in the truck was serendipitous. I still had a question for Ben, but it was something I didn’t want to ask with Felicity around. It had been starting to look as though it was going to have to wait, but now a fresh opportunity was emerging. Of course, given the nature of the question and the fact that I had just poked holes in the thin fabric of my friend’s already tenuous belief in the paranormal, I wasn’t sure he would take me seriously. At the very least, I knew I was once again going to be playing the hypocrite in his eyes.
“You take care of yourself, Felicity,” Ben told her. “Do me a favor and tell Mona I’ll be by later, okay?”
“I will,” she answered, detaching from me and stepping forward to give him a hug. “I’m sure she would appreciate that. You’ll give Constance our love, then?”
; “Yeah, will do.” He gave her a squeeze in return while saying. “You gonna be okay?”
“Aye,” she said. “Eventually.”
“Ya’know she was doin’ ‘er job, right? Constance doesn’t blame you for what happened.”
“You can’t know that, Ben.”
“Yeah, I can. Trust me, it’s a cop thing.”
“Maybe so,” my wife replied as she pulled away, tears starting to well in her eyes again. “But that doesn’t…”
“I’m tellin’ ya’ don’t go there…” he returned, cutting her off as he reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “She may be a Feeb, but she’s still a badge. She was doin’ ‘er job. B’sides, she’s gonna be fine.” He let out a nervous chuckle that sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as her, then added, “Ya’ don’t really think she’s gonna let me off the hook that easy, do ya’?”
I caught a glimpse of a forced smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as she tried to respond to his attempt at cheering her up and then watched as her lips quickly turned back into a frown. She shot a glance toward me, and I could see in her expression that she was wrestling with a different guilt entirely. I had a feeling I knew the source of the anguish all too well because I was feeling it too. And I suspected the two of us weren’t the only ones fending off the pain it brought. Ben probably was as well but when it came right down to it, none of us wanted to be the first to confess the sin.
She looked back at him and said, “Thank you,” before turning fully to face me and adding, “Don’t be long?”
Her voice was soft, yet held the benign note of insistence that was so often exchanged between husbands and wives, telling me she wanted to be on the way soon. When I looked into her eyes, however, a “demand” wasn’t what I saw.
If anything, she wore an expression that was no less than a pleading question mark.
CHAPTER 3:
Ben and I both watched after Felicity as she walked down the path and started along the edge of the access road rather than chance crossing the soft ground in heels. The hard sound of her shoe soles against the asphalt dulled with each step she took, but I continued to gaze in her direction until she disappeared behind the end of a small hedgerow.
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