DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) J Kiefer (ebook reader .txt) 📖

hair hung down over his face, but she could still make out one eye. She felt sorry for him and could only imagine what kind of grief he was dealing with. If she felt survivor’s guilt, how much more must he? After all, he had been the first one on the scene. It must have deeply affected him. How could it not? As a homicide detective, she was used to seeing the terrible things people did to each other, but for someone who did not do what she did for a living, it must be absolutely life changing. He turned his head slightly to look at her and she blanched. The one eye she could make out was glowing a faint angry red.

She blinked and looked again. This time there was no glow, only the sad eyes she had seen earlier. It must have been her imagination. The grief getting to her. He smiled mournfully. She reached out her hand in comfort. He gave it a light squeeze. At just that moment, Pastor Caddret asked everyone to stand for the ending prayer. They released their hands and stood with bowed heads.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” Pastor Caddret said, his voice thick with emotion, “we know that Jared is with You now, and we thank You for Your Son who came and died to make that possible. We know that death is not the end, and that it is no small comfort for those of us who are left behind as Jared leaves this mortal realm and enters eternity with You. Though we may miss him, we know that we will see him again. The Holy Spirit comforts those of us who mourn this terrible loss. Be with us as we walk through this dark time. Thank you, God. We love You and thank You for the time we did get to spend with Jared. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”

Jared’s favorite worship song played softly over the speakers as the pallbearers came forward and took their places next to the coffin. All of them were police officers save Steve, who was positioned near the rear on the right side. As they walked, he passed his mother, sister, and Dana. Upon seeing his mother’s tears, he smiled ever so slightly. Everyone was too overcome with grief to notice his smirk.

Everyone, that is, except Dana.

Twenty-Eight

Once Jared’s casket had been placed in the hearse and all the attendees had retreated to their cars, the procession left the small funeral home and headed toward the cemetery. It was a long procession, and police officers on motorcycles went before the cars, blocking streets and making sure that the way was clear. Before long, the procession wound its way to a large cemetery sitting on a series of hills just outside the town.

As each car parked, passengers got out and made their way up to Jared’s casket. Old Glory was draped over the casket and three officers waited with their rifles at the ready as the family and friends took their places near the gravesite. Chairs had been set out for the family, but Steve declined his seat next to his parents, offering it to Dana instead. She graciously accepted and took her seat. Steve took his place standing behind his parents as Dana watched him out of the corner of her eyes.

Had she really seen him smirk earlier? No, she must have been mistaken. Why would he smile like that? She shook her head ever so slightly at the thought. After all, she was sure she had seen his eyes glowing red during the service earlier. No, her grief was affecting her more than she realized, and it was causing her to see things.

Steve noticed her glancing at him, and stiffened. Why was she watching him? Did she suspect something was amiss with him? Maybe he had not been careful enough in his play-acting grief.

Calm down, Steve. Keep your head about you or you really are going to slip up and give something away. How do people act sad in movies? Just do that.

He lowered his head and brushed away imaginary tears. Relax! he told himself. No one knew anything and no one suspected. As always, It had removed any evidence that Steve may have left at the scene. There was nothing to worry about.

Gunfire cracked as the color guard fired off a three-volley salute. When had the order been given to fire? He cursed his inattention.

Had Dana been watching him just now? No matter, his quiet reflection could very easily be construed as grief. He sighed heavily, attempting to release the tension that had been building up inside. Steve continued watching as Dana held his sister as she sobbed. His father’s head was down, and he had one arm gently resting on his mother who wept inconsolably. A lone officer lifted a bugle to his lips and the strong, lonely notes of “Taps” flowed. There was not a dry eye to be found as his brother’s casket was lowered slowly into the ground.

The rest of the burial was a blur. He was glad when it was finally over. Feigning sorrow was exhausting, and he had a headache. Close family and friends were all gathered in his parents’ small house, eating and reminiscing. The place was packed. Steve desperately wanted a beer, but the fridge was a dry zone. The strongest drink he’d find here was soda.

He was just thinking that he’d spent enough time hugging people when he spied Dana quietly slipping out the front door. Great, he needed a break too. His parents were busy talking to some obscure relative and no one noticed him quietly step out to follow her.

It was getting dark and Dana was nowhere in sight. Angry at missing her, he kicked the ironwork railing that framed his parent’s porch. “Fuck.”

“Watch your language,” came a voice from around the side of the house. “You know your mom would be upset if she heard you talking like that.”

He