“Enough,” Brand said. “No more bringing up parents, sadness, or the past. It’s bad enough we’re pulling up to the cemetery where we’re going to see a young officer laid to rest years before his time.”
The SUV came to a stop behind several of the cars lined up along the graveyards gravel drive and Brand parked. They all got out and walked toward the grave site where chairs were set up and people were already gathering. The police honor guard stood vigil waiting for the signal.
As they drew closer, he could see a small stage was set up with a microphone so that the minister and the officials from the department who would speak could be heard. As well as the last call transmission for Officer Flynn. Brand walked Carly up to the side in hopes of getting her a seat so she wouldn’t have to stand during the whole service.
Harley spotted them. “Carly, come, sit over here. You too, Jules.” She motioned to where there were vacant seats behind her. And the two women obliged.
“Where’s Colleen and Margot?” Harley asked.
“They decided not to come to the graveside because of the cold, but the sun today is keeping it from being so bad and at least the wind isn’t harsh,” Carly explained. “It was risky getting Christopher out for the church service with him only a few days old.”
“Of course,” Harley agreed. “I fully understand and with Margot getting closer to her due date I’m sure she is concerned with catching a chill. Thank you all for coming. They’ve made beautiful arrangements for today, don’t you agree?”
“They have,” Jules replied.
“You’ll be sure to come by the brownstone after forwards for food,” Harley said. “So much food was delivered this morning from the church as well as the police department. Scottie and I can’t possibly eat it all. And I’ve already filled my freezer with casseroles that have been dropped off all week. You have to come. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Trust her,” the white-haired woman on the opposite side of Harley said. “There is so much food that needs to be eaten.”
“Okay,” Carly said.
“We’ll come,” Jules said.
Harley turned back around and a silence fell over the crowd as the flag draped casket was carried to the grave and set upon the burial plot. Floral arrangements in the similar black and blue them were set around by the funeral home attendants as they prepared for the service to begin.
A twenty-one-gun salute started the service off and then the color guard moved into place folding the flag that was on the casket and presented it to Harley. Then the last call of duty transmission was played before final remarks from the minister and Commander Burns was made. As a final salute to Reilly Amazing Grace was played on the bagpipes by a man were a blue, black, and green kilt, standing off in the distance on a hill where everyone could see him.
When the song ended, the minister dismissed everyone and they slowly and somberly stood, milling around and talking with Scottie and Harley before finally leaving the graveyard.
CHAPTER 12
“The funeral service was great, Hawkeye,”Brand told him walking into his office the next morning. “Adams didn’t make an appearance which is what we were afraid would happen. Especially me. I was really afraid of a déjà vu moment at the church.”
“I know.” Hawkeye looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk. “Which leaves me puzzled. Why didn’t he show? Could we have been wrong?”
“No. Swede pulled together evidence from the data for us,” Brand pointed out. “It showed we were on the right track suspecting Adams.”
“Could he value his job at the arena that much?” Hawkeye asked. “The service was during his normal work hours. Is that why he didn’t leave work to come to the funeral?”
“I believe if he wanted to get away to do harm to Harley or Scottie, he would have found a way around his work schedule.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Hawkey said.
A rapid knock came on the open door prompted Brand to turn around to see a flushed faced Mitchell Simpson standing there. “Clint Rogers is dead.”
“What the hell!” Hawkeye jumped from his chair and came around his desk in seconds. “He was at our safehouse.”
“I know,” Simpson said. “That means we have a mole in the department.”
“Shit,” Brand said, and he stepped around Simpson to slam the door shut. “I’m assuming you found him at the safehouse?”
“Yes,” Simpson said. “He was lying on the floor, in a fetal position, foaming at the mouth.”
“Were there pills near the body?” Hawkeye asked.
“None,” Simpson said. “I checked the entire place but found nothing. I called Dr. Holland myself and had him come get the body and told him to keep it quiet. That we didn’t want Rogers death leaked to the department since we were afraid it was linked to Flynn’s.”
“Good call,” Hawkeye said. “What about his car? How did Rogers get to the safehouse? Did you take him there?”
