Dead End

“Did you tell Brendan that A

Co

There was silence while each digested what had been said.

“Is there a chance that Brendan wanted to kill A

Before he hung up, Co

“I spoke with your brother. Maybe you should give him a call. There was some talk about who would be the pallbearers.”

“Well, they can count me out. No fucking way.” The anger resurfaced. “Son of bitch murdered my brother, I’m going to carry his casket? How could Aidan even consider it?”

“I don’t think Aidan is thinking about honoring the dead as much as he’s thinking about honoring the living.”

Co

“Call Aidan, Co

“Don’t expect to hear from me.”

Co

What the hell had happened to his world?

He thought of Brendan as a young boy, almost a decade younger than Co

Co

He had called Aidan and berated him for even considering bearing Brendan’s coffin.

“It’s not for him, Co

“Yeah, I remember.” Co

“That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Aidan had said. “You’re feeling guilty because Dylan took the shots that may have been for you.”

Co

“Con, no one is ever going to blame you for not dying that night. Jesus, Con.”

When Co

“Sorry, little brother. You do what you want. But I’ll have no part in it.”

“If you change your mind-”

“I won’t change my mind. Give everyone my love, though.”

And with that, Co

There were lights from the boats that still came and went in the small harbor, even at this late hour. Co

Maybe tomorrow, he told himself. Maybe tomorrow he’d take a boat out. Maybe he’d just keep it going until it ran out of gas. And then, maybe he’d just slide overboard and let the water take him where it would.

He went back into his room, picked up the phone, and called downstairs for another bottle.

25

“How about if I just meet you at the cemetery?” Evan rolled down the window of the rental car he’d picked up at the airport and cursed himself for not checking the air-conditioning before he’d gotten onto I-95. Now he was stuck in a massive traffic jam, the temperature had risen into the high eighties already, and the fan was blowing warm.

“That’s fine, Evan,” A

“I’m surprised that so many people came out for him, a disgraced FBI agent.”

“It’s for his family. His dad has ties that go back fifty years. He and Dylan’s dad were very highly regarded in the law enforcement community. Yes, there’s certainly a lot of embarrassment, but at the same time, there’s been a lot of support. I’m really not surprised that so many people are here to pay their respects to Frank. And to Andrew, and Mia. And the others.”

“Are Co

“Aidan was at the viewing last night. Co

“She’s been there all week?”

“Of course. She’s Aidan’s wife. She’ll stand by them.”

“Even though Brendan was going to kill you?”

“In spite of it.”

“I think you’re pretty remarkable, to go to the viewing and the funeral of the man who tried to take your life. Not to mention the fact that he murdered Dylan.”

“I’m too close to the family to not go, Evan. We talked about this. If you don’t want to come to the services, you shouldn’t feel you have to.”

“I want to be there with you.” He craned his neck to look out the window at the traffic that still hadn’t moved. “However, at this rate, I’ll be lucky if I’m out of here by noon.”

“Well, since the service here is going to start in about ten minutes, why not just plan on meeting me at the cemetery.” She was walking now. Evan could hear the click of her heels, the change in her breathing. “You have the directions?”

“Yeah. Assuming I ever get off 95 to use them. I’ll catch up with you at the cemetery.”

“Okay. Look, I’m going into the church. I’ll see you later.”

Evan ended the call and tossed the phone onto the front seat, then leaned heavily against the door. The car in front of him moved forward by about a foot, and all the other cars inched up behind one another hopefully.

There was nothing worse than a traffic jam on a major highway on a hot, steamy, humid August morning. Evan felt along the floor for the water bottle that had earlier rolled from the passenger seat and took a long drink once he’d successfully snagged it. The cars began to move, slowly at first, then a little steadier. With all the car windows down, there was a slight bit of breeze. He was debating whether to get off at the next exit and try to find the church, or simply go ahead to the cemetery, as he and A

Luther stood alongside his car and watched the faithful flock to the tent that had been erected next to the gaping hole in the earth that would serve as Brendan Shields’s last earthly home. Luther hadn’t gone to the church with the others from his unit that morning-he felt that would have been too much for the family; his presence would have been more noticeable there. But here, under the open sky, where all of the family and those closest to the dearly departed had gathered together under the tent, he could hug the back of the crowd and disappear into it. He wasn’t sure how anyone would feel about having the man who was responsible for the gathering mingling among the mourners, and thought his best bet would be to stay out of sight as much as possible.