LeJeune’s funeral was at Holy Name Cathedral on a warm, sunny spring morning. Georgia loved the grace of Gothic architecture and how the arches gently came together at a point. The vaulted ceiling had similar lines. Everything pointed up. Perhaps toward heaven. Where LeJeune was. She bit her lip. She hoped she wouldn’t start to cry again.
JoBeth was sitting on one side of her, Jimmy the other. JoBeth whispered about the colorful stained-glass windows. “Let’s take some time afterwards to look at them.”
Georgia looked around. The nave was crowded with over two hundred people, she guessed. Were they all FBI employees? LeJeune had always seemed like a loner. Apparently, she was wrong. “I don’t know, Mom. There’s a huge crowd. It’ll take us forever to just get out of here.”
JoBeth craned her neck. “Wow. I wasn’t paying attention. He has—had—a lot of friends.”
Georgia spotted Ellie Foreman and her boyfriend, Luke Sutton, walking down the aisle. Jimmy had saved them two seats. After sitting down, they greeted Georgia.
“Ellie, this is my mother, JoBeth. Mom, this is the woman who started the whole thing.”
Ellie opened her mouth, probably to object, but Luke nudged his elbow into her arm. Instead, she said, “What a pleasure to meet you, JoBeth. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Everyone smiled. The service began a few minutes later.
The archbishop officiated and delivered the eulogy. He didn’t know LeJeune, but the FBI clearly had pull for him to conduct the service. Someone, maybe Chesterton, Georgia thought, wrote a beautiful tribute to LeJeune, emphasizing his intelligence, his courage, his loyalty, his humor, even his irreverence. So much for not crying. Georgia borrowed a handkerchief from Jimmy.
Afterwards, an honor guard carried the flag-draped coffin out of the cathedral and into a waiting black limo. The crowd slowly exited the cathedral, many stopping on the steps to huddle in small groups and chat, among them Georgia, Jimmy, Ellie, Luke, and JoBeth.
Arthur Chesterton, LeJeune’s superior, made his way over to the group. Georgia noticed his red-rimmed eyes. When they were face to face, he took both of her hands in his. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Georgia.”
“You too, sir.”
“Thank you. Call me Art.” He took off his glasses, then, perhaps realizing it was a nervous, awkward gesture, put them back on. “We’ve charged Ada Christiansen, Porter Christiansen, and some of the other Fundamentalists who were working with him. I doubt their cult in Nauvoo will survive.”
Georgia swallowed.
“Eden’s already contacted someone online who can help her quit the Mormon Church. But I’m not sure if that will be necessary long-term. She and her children are going into WITSEC.”
“I’m so glad. I hope she’ll be safe.”
The Marshals know she’s a special case.” He cleared his throat. “I know now’s not the time, but when you’re up to it, I’d like to talk.”
“That would be fine.”
“Nick thought the world of you.”
“I thought he was pretty special too.”
“So did I.” Chesterton cleared his throat again. “Here’s my card.” He handed it over. “Call me when you’re ready.”
“I will.”
After he left, Jimmy asked, “Who was that?”
She explained. Then she leaned over and changed the subject. “We should invite Ellie and Luke to the wedding,” she whispered.
He whispered back, “I thought you wanted to keep it private.”
“But Luke is your best friend. Don’t you want him to be there?”
“I would like that.”
Georgia nodded.
“Hey, Luke,” Jimmy said out loud. “You busy tomorrow?”
Luke shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
“You are now. Georgia and I are getting married. At Lake Geneva City Hall.”
Georgia added, “And afterwards, Jimmy’s mother is making a Big Fat Greek Dinner for us. You’ll come?”
Ellie grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Congratulations!”