by James Hunt
“The units are close, Jim,” Mullocks said. “Not much longer now.”
“Charlie must have done something with my mom’s phone because nothing is going through,” Jim said, laying on the horn as he weaved around someone going slow in the fast lane. “Everyone needs to get out the moment the units arrive.”
“I’ve already given everyone instructions,” Mullocks said. “They know what to do.”
Jim veered across four lanes of traffic and took the exit to his parents’ neighborhood. “I’m almost there. I’m going to try my mom’s cell one more time.”
“Okay,” Mullocks said.
Jim ended the call and quickly dialed his mother’s number again. Each unanswered ring was like a punch to the gut. Never had he felt so helpless or angry. He couldn’t believe Charlie would stoop to this level, but it wasn’t really Charlie, was it? It was the Broker Jim had been dealing with, a man who cared nothing about the sanctity of life.
The call went to voicemail again as Jim turned onto the final few streets before reaching his parents’ house. He tried again, one more time, racing through the sleepy neighborhood, which was suddenly rocked by a loud explosion.
Jim jolted from surprise and slammed on the brakes. He saw the smoke rising over the other houses from the blast, and his jaw hung slack from shock.
Jim’s phone rang, and he saw it was Mullocks calling him. Jim stared at the screen, afraid to answer, to know what had happened. And as he reached for the phone, he felt hollowed out as he waited to learn whether his family had survived or if he had been orphaned again.
Chapter 25—One Week Later
Jim stared at himself in the mirror. It had been a long time since he had attended a funeral, but the black suit he had worn to an old friend’s funeral five years ago still fit. He hadn’t expected this; no one had
“Ready?” Jen asked, stepping into the room, dressed in a black dress.
“Yeah,” Jim answered, exhaling in the same breath.
Jen sensed Jim’s nerves and reached for his hand. “It’s going to be all right.”
Jim squeezed Jen’s hand in reply. He was so thankful to have her in his life. He honestly didn’t know what he would do without her. But before they left, Jim stared at the spot on the bedroom floor where he had restrained Charlie just a week before.
Even though it wasn’t that long ago, it felt like a different life, and in many ways, it was. Jim and Kerry had closed a very painful chapter in their book at work together. But after today, Jim wasn’t sure how many chapters he had left.
The past three months had taken a toll on him, more than he was willing to admit. Jen saw it, and so did Kerry and Mullocks. He walked a little slower, spoke a little less. He had aged beyond his young years after this case, forged by the blood that had stained his badge.
The lieutenant had assured Jim that all detectives went through this; every cop did eventually. But Jim had never believed he would fall into that category. He never believed he would lose.
The entire drive over to the church, Jim had butterflies in his stomach. They became so unruly that he thought he might throw up and pulled over.
Jen rubbed his back soothingly. “We don’t have to go.”
Jim’s head pounded, and he was sweating. He gripped the steering wheel hard, and he shook his head. “No. I have to be there.”
Jen didn’t protest. She only nodded, and once Jim felt certain he could keep his breakfast down, what little he’d been able to eat, he merged back into traffic.
It wasn’t a large funeral, but the surrounding circumstances had attracted a lot of attention. Thankfully, the press remained respectful, keeping away from the church, and no one shouted questions across the street. It was the first time Jim had seen them show any restraint.
When Jim and Jen finally entered the church, he tensed as he headed for their seat near the front of the casket. He didn’t think he’d be able to walk the distance to the pew, but Jen helped, putting one foot in front of the other.
Every eye in the church found Jim as he made his way to the front, and he knew why. In the week since the Broker’s capture, his and Kerry’s faces had been plastered on every news channel in the country. They were hailed as heroes, even though Kerry was still recovering in the hospital.
When Jim and Jen slid into the pew, he forced himself to look at the front row. It was there he saw Emma Fuller, dressed in black, a white tissue clutched in her black-gloved hand. She looked back at Jim, providing a curt nod.
Emma Fuller had made good on her promise to hold off on burying her daughter until the Broker was caught, but now that he was in custody, she could finally find peace.
Jim wasn’t sure why Mrs. Fuller had requested him to attend. He figured he would be the last person she would want to be there, but it wasn’t a request he could deny, especially after she’d dropped the civil case against Jim and Kerry. Kerry had been invited as well, but her recovery at the hospital had prevented her from attending.
As the ceremony began, Jim focused on the coffin where Amy Fuller lay in repose. A young girl whose life was cut short by men who should have never been allowed to get close to something so young and innocent.
Jim knew that even after today, after this closure, he would still remember. Amy’s death was a scar on his memories as prominent as the ones on his hands. They would be with him forever, and he would bear it with the dignity it deserved.
Jim gripped Jen’s hand tightly through the procession.
“It’ll be fine,” Jen said, whispering into his ear.
Jim nodded, thankful to have Jen by his side. It was a somber affair; the funeral made even more painful because of the young child who had lost her life far too soon. The funeral was tasteful, or at least as tasteful as a child’s funeral could be. While Jim was in pain the entire time, never able to find a comfortable position, he never let anyone see it. Today wasn’t about him. It was about a girl who had lost her life to a monster. A monster who would never hurt anyone ever again.
After the funeral was over, Jen helped Jim stand in line to pay his respects to the parents. The entire wait, Jim couldn’t think of what to say. He had done his best to try to come up with something beforehand, but whatever words he cobbled together never felt right.
And finally, it was his turn, and Jim stepped up to the mother whose eyes were still red from crying and would stay red for weeks and months to come.
“Detective,” Mrs. Fuller said. She was dressed all in black, complete with a veil and black nail polish and lipstick. “Thank you for coming.”
“It was a nice service,” Jim said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Fuller said, and then she reached for Jim’s hand, sandwiching it between both of hers. She had such frail, bony fingers, but there was a strength in them which Jim felt. “Thank you for allowing me to finally have peace. I didn’t realize how much—” she choked up but quickly recovered—“I needed it.”
“It was a beautiful service,” Jen said.
“Thank you,” the mother replied. “And thank you again for coming.”
Jim nodded, still unable to say anything. Jen waited a moment longer for Jim to speak, and when he didn’t, she simply nodded and smiled at the parents one last time and pulled him away.
But Jim only made two steps before he turned around and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” Jim said. “For your loss.”
The mother nodded. “Thank you, Detective.”
It wasn’t enough. Jim knew that, no gesture would be. But he could still try. “The piece that feels like it’s missing,” Jim said, “you never really find it again. And you can’t replace it. But you can fill it with the good moments you shared with your daughter. It will hurt at first, but that will fade, too.”
Emma Fuller grimaced as if she would cry, but held it together. “Thank you, Detective. Thank you for everything.”
Once they were outside the church, Jim and Jen returned to his car and climbed inside. When Jim didn’t start the car, Jen reached o
ver and touched his hand.
“Are you all right?” Jen asked.
“I didn’t know how I would feel coming here today,” Jim answered. “I’d thought of nothing else but finding the Broker for the past three months, ever since we lost Amy Fuller, and now it’s over.”
“And how does that make you feel?” Jen asked.
Jim grew emotional, feeling it bubbling up from a place that had long remained dormant. “I feel… relieved.” He looked at Jen, the tears in his eyes. “And that makes me feel guilty because a little girl is dead, her mother lost a daughter, and there are so many other people in pain because of what happened.”
Jen leaned over from her seat and held him, and for once, Jim let himself sink into her, allowing another person to help bear the weight of his own pain and grief. And he was so thankful for Jen to be in his life.
After, Jen kissed him, told him how much she loved him, and Jim felt content.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jim said.
“I know,” Jen replied, smiling.
Jim felt lighter on the drive home, and he reveled in the sensation. Because he knew there would be more cases like this in the future. Because evil never took a break, but he would always be there to combat it.
“Easy,” Brian said, helping Kerry into the wheelchair.
“I’m okay,” Kerry said.
“The doctor said not to strain yourself,” Brian said, holding up most of her weight until she was sitting all the way down into the chair.
Kerry rolled her eyes, but she knew Brian was right. She was still in a considerable amount of pain, and even if she wanted to move around on her own, she didn’t have the strength, at least not yet.
“There,” Brian said. “How does that feel?”
Kerry examined the wheelchair she would be bound to for the next several weeks. “Weird.”
“How are you holding up?” Brian asked.
“Still a little sore,” Kerry answered.
“Would you describe your pain as more of a dull ache or more like a stabbing pain?” Brian asked, grinning widely.
Kerry groaned, rolling her eyes. “Are you really trying to make a joke about me getting stabbed right now?”
“Too soon?” Brian asked.
Laughter pulled their attention to the door, where they saw Jim dressed in a black suit and tie.
“See? Jim thought it was funny,” Brian said.
“If you put some spinners on that, you’d be riding in style,” Jim said.
“We’ll have to special order those,” Brian said.
Jim and Brian shook hands, and then Jim handed Kerry some flowers.
“You shouldn’t have,” Kerry said.
“Probably not, but you know how stubborn I can be,” Jim said.
Kerry examined Jim’s attire, and she realized what today was. “I should have gone with you.”
“I explained to Mrs. Fuller the situation and she understood,” Jim said. “No need to make a big fuss about it.”
Kerry had wanted to attend Amy Fuller’s funeral, which had taken place today, but neither she nor Brian was sure when she would be discharged from the hospital.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Brian said. He clapped Jim on the shoulder before he headed for the door. “Make sure she doesn’t try to get up.”
“I think you overestimate my powers of persuasion,” Jim said.
“He really does,” Kerry said.
Jim pocketed his hands. He looked handsome in the black suit and tie. He also looked more rested than the last time she saw him.
“You look good,” Kerry said.
“Wish I could say the same for you,” Jim said.
Kerry laughed and then gingerly touched her side. “Ow, don’t make me laugh. I’m still feeble.”
Jim took a seat in one of the empty chairs. “You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”
Kerry had limited information on the happenings outside of her hospital room. The lieutenant and Brian had refused to give her much, other than they had caught Charlie Rawlins and that his reign of terror was over.
“Did you tell Missy thanks for me?” Kerry asked.
“I did,” Jim answered. “She said, ‘no problem,’ and then promptly ignored me.”
“Good,” Kerry said. “Then we know she meant it.”
“How are you doing with your recovery?” Jim asked.
“Doc says I’m progressing fine,” Kerry answered. “Not as fast I would like but fine.”
“Don’t rush it,” Jim said. “You’ll still have a spot at the Five when you’re at full strength.”
“How come you always seem to spit my advice back at me when I don’t want to hear it?” Kerry asked. “It’s really an improbable superpower of yours.”
“One of many,” Jim said.
The pair fell into silence, and Jim rubbed his palms together.
“Still having those nightmares?” Jim asked.
“No,” Kerry answered, relieved. “No more nightmares. But… I don’t know. I guess I still feel off?”
“Well, you were stabbed in the liver,” Jim answered.
“You know what I mean,” Kerry said.
Jim nodded. “I’m not sure it’ll ever go away, that feeling of failure. But it’s not a taste I’d like to have in my mouth again.”
“Me either,” Kerry said.
“All the more reason for you to take your recovery seriously so you can get back on the force and we can return to do what we do best,” Jim said.
“Yeah,” Kerry said, and then she glanced down at the wheelchair she’d be calling home for the foreseeable future. “You know, I was wondering what it would take for me to stop blaming myself. For a while, I thought I would have had to give my life for it, you know? But after Kent stabbed me, I knew my guilt was misplaced.”
“What do you mean?” Jim asked.
“I blamed myself for not getting into that house in time,” Kerry answered. “But the truth was there were hundreds of minutes throughout that day that I could have pinned the blame on not getting to Amy Fuller in time. The worst part about evil, real evil, is that it makes you think it’s your fault. It makes you believe you’re the reason you failed. But it’s not. Amy was killed by a pedophile with the help of Charlie Rawlins. Her death is on their hands, not ours.”
Jim nodded, bowing his head, and Kerry realized how complicated this must be for Jim. He had found his biological mother, only to learn that his new half-brother was a monster.
“Have you talked to her?” Kerry asked. “Kelly?”
“No,” Jim answered.
“You should,” Kerry replied.
“I’m not sure I’m someone she wants to speak with right now,” Jim said.
“Hey,” Kerry said, “don’t let evil ruin something that could be good for you. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jim answered, and then he stood. “So long as you stay in that chair.”
“Deal,” Kerry said.
Jim bent down and hugged Kerry, and then he headed for the door.
“Jim,” Kerry said, and he stopped and turned around. “Tell Jen I said hi.”
“Will do.”
After Jim was gone, Kerry leaned back into the wheelchair. She closed her eyes, something she had done a lot of lately as she slept. She no longer saw Amy Fuller’s face. Instead, she saw nothing but peaceful darkness, and so she rested.
With the events of the day winding down, Jim and Jen returned home, feeling exhausted from the funeral. When Jim pulled into the driveway, he parked and then shut off the engine, lingering behind the wheel.
“What is it?” Jen asked.
Jim had spent a lot of time thinking about his life, job, and how it all connected together. And he knew it was important for him to get what he was feeling off his chest. “There’s never going to be a good time to do this, so…” Jim pivoted to Jen. “You know I love you.”
“I do,” Jen said.
“And I know a lot of our pro
blems over the past three months, well, all of our problems really, have stemmed from my job,” Jim said. “More specifically, how I’ve acted at my job and how I’ve acted with you because of it.”
“Yes,” Jen said.
“When I go back to work, after this break, I’m going back full steam, Jen,” Jim said. “It’s the only thing I know how to do.” He was growing nervous. “I want to be honest with you about this because I know how hard this has been on you, and if you want to leave now, I understand—”
Jen leaned over and kissed Jim on the lips. When she pulled back, Jim still had his eyes closed. “I knew the type of man you were when we started dating, Jim North. Your job is as a part of you as your own beating heart. And I love every aspect of you. Whatever challenges come our way in the future, we’ll handle them together. But I need you to promise me something here and now, and this is not negotiable.”
“Okay,” Jim said.
“Talk to me,” Jen said. “About anything and everything. If we don’t communicate, we’ll end up resenting one another. And I don’t want that for us.”
“Me either,” Jim said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jen said.
Jen smiled, the bright smile that made him fall in love with her, the kind that made him believe better days were ahead, and then she kissed him.
Feeling lighter, Jim stepped out of the car and headed for the door, but as he and Jen walked to the front door, they were stopped by an unexpected visitor.
“Hi, Jim.”
Kelly Rawlins stood in the walkway. He was surprised to see her. They hadn’t spoken since the night Jim had discovered her son—his half-brother—was the Broker.
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I was hoping we could talk?” Kelly asked.
Of all the people Jim was surprised to find on his doorstep, Kelly Rawlins would have been the last name on that list.
“Of course,” Jen said. “Come inside, please.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine out here, really,” Kelly said. “But thank you.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk,” Jen said, and she kissed Jim on the cheek before she went into the house.
“She seems wonderful,” Kelly said.
