“Anything, Len.”
Lenny’s voice grew soft. “Sarah’s family. They’ve requested that you…,” he paused, and Colin could hear him take a shaky breath. “They want you in dress uniform, standing honor guard at her casket. But, I thought–after all you’ve been through, I dunno. Are you up for it?”
Colin’s breath caught. “If they want me there, I’m there. But you’re sure it’s OK? I’m retired, and I’m not city police.”
Lenny’s answer was immediate and fierce. “You’re a cop, Colin, and you always will be. Sarah would have wanted you on that line. Hell, her whole family asked for you.” There was a pause—and once again, Colin thought he heard Lenny draw in a trembling breath. “I’ll make it official. Come in your dress blues. Wear that fancy tin. You stand with me.”
Colin closed his eyes, chest tightening. “Thank you, Lenny. Josh managed to salvage the fancy tin so…” He fought down a sob. “Uniform might smell a bit—smoky. Hope that’s OK.”
“We all know exactly why that smell is there,” Lenny murmured. “I’ll be in touch about time and place.”
The call ended. For a long moment, Colin stood in silence, hand still on the phone, letting the reality settle over him. Then, quietly, he went to hang up the uniform—the one thing the fire couldn’t touch.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHERE WE BEGIN AGAIN
They would remember Sarah’s funeral not for the speeches or the wail of bagpipes, but for the silence as the honor guard assembled. Colin, Lenny, Daniel, and Sarah’s captain stood shoulder to shoulder in full dress uniform next to Sarah’s casket as officers from every precinct filed past, black mourning bands a slash across their badges.
The sound of the final salute and the hush as the flag was folded lingered longer than any eulogy. Colin remembered the weight of his uniform, the burn of the tears he refused to shed, the ache in his chest, and the feel of Joshua’s hand on his arm when it was finally over. It hadn’t brought peace, but it had brought a kind of closure.
In the days that followed, grief and bureaucracy merged into a dizzying blur of sleepless nights, phone calls, and mind-numbing paperwork. Shannon Nash’s logs had been copied and presented to the investigation’s lead detective, ATF continued to sift through the ruins, city police chased leads, and the news replayed endless footage of their battered front porch, yellow tape snapping in the wind. Colin and Joshua dealt with the items they were allowed to salvage, and between calls to the insurancecompany and trips to the dry cleaner, they fought to keep despair at bay.
They had both gone back to work, apologizing to their colleagues for the faint, smoky smell that clung to their clothes. Colin tried his best to focus, but mid-morning of his first day, he already felt the awkward shift: conversations abruptly halted when he entered a room, case files were angled just out of sight, a meeting he normally would have attended proceeded without him–the conference room door securely closed. No one said a word, but the message was unmistakable: he would no longer be included inanydiscussion that touched on the investigation into Sarah’s death.
He understood—legally, ethically—hehadto be walled off. But understanding didn’t blunt the sting of it. Being shut out of a room he had once commanded made something in his chest tighten—not wounded pride exactly, but close enough to bruise.
Ten days after he had returned to the CAO, Esther called him into her office. When he arrived, he was surprised to see his husband seated next to Norman Clayton. “What’s going on, boss lady?” he asked, one hand coming to rest on Joshua’s shoulder.
“We got a location early last week.” She arched her eyebrows. “From ananonymousphone tip. A body was there. Clothes matched the security footage from your house cameras. Prints matched. Bomb residue sealed it.”
“Certainly didn’t take him long,” Clayton muttered with a grim smile.
“You think it wasElias?” Joshua asked.
“Ohhellyes, it was Elias!”
Joshua blinked. “He just… handed this over?”
Esther’s mouth tightened. “Let’s just say he knew exactly what kind of evidence we’d need—and he made damned sure we had it.”
Colin studied her. “So, you’re not going after him.”
“We can’t prove anything,” she said. “Not without a confession or something that ties Elias to the kill. An anonymous tip and a corpse certainly won’t do it. And honestly? It’s time to put this whole matter to bed.”
“Wow,” Joshua breathed out.
“Wow, indeed,” Esther said. “He also assured me that from now on, no matter who you prosecute, arrest, investigate, or indict—nothing and no one willevertouch you or Joshua again.”
“Oh,right!” Joshua blurted.
Esther turned to him. “Don’t underestimate this message, Josh. It’s powerful. It’s a demonstration of how much Elias respects your husband’s position—and how seriously he takes what happened here. He gave his word, and some underling broke it. For Elias? That is fuckingdeadly.”
“As evidenced by what happened to the bomber,” Norm commented. “Which sends out ahugemessage to anyone else thinking to bother the two of you.”
“Also sends a pretty clear message to baby-brother Lexi,” Colin muttered.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t give a plugged nickel for his life now,” Norm commented. “He’ll die in Red Onion, probably before the weekend.”
