I’m attending an evening gathering to honor Danny and Julie Phelan.

In my experience, it’s the first memorial event held in a sports bar, but Andy Carpenter is hosting it and no doubt paying for it. Not surprisingly, it’s at Charlie’s, his favorite hangout, so it will also have the best French fries and beer in the history of memorial tributes.

I haven’t spoken to Andy since the Phelans were killed. He comes over to me as soon as I enter and says, “Welcome. Glad you could make it.”

“Interesting choice of venues.”

“Actually, Danny and I had all our meetings here; he loved the burgers. I think he would approve of the choice. And Julie would have happily gone along with anything her father wanted.”

“I’m sorry it had to end the way it did,” I say.

He nods. “Me, too. They were good people who could have used better breaks along the way.”

Andy had been telling me all along that Danny was innocent, but he’s not throwing in any I told you sos now. I respect and appreciate that, even coming from a defense attorney.

I see Pete Stanton and Vince Sanders at their regular table, eating and drinking. “How come they’re here?” I ask. “Did they even know the Phelans?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Andy says. “They would have attended services for Osama bin Laden if the beer and food were free.”

“Let me ask you something,” I say. “I think McKinney was worried that Julie was going to turn over some of Danny’s papers that she had in storage. It worried him enough to precipitate his capturing her and taking a shot at me. You have any idea what that could have been about?”

He thinks for a moment and then says, “I’m not sure, but Danny had been in and out of drug treatment for a very long time. A therapist once told him that keeping a daily journal would help him ‘stay in the moment,’ whatever the hell that means. But he did it for many years.”

“Interesting, but still doesn’t tell me what’s in there.”

“Could have been his relationship with Gero and Scanlon, which had been bad ever since the army. They thought Danny ratted them out on some drug stuff. He didn’t, but that’s why he was willing to leave that unit.”

“I wish I would have known that,” I say.

“Would it have changed things?”

“Probably not.”

“Then have a beer and toast their memory. And don’t beat yourself up. You did good,” he says, and then adds, “For a cop.”