There was an elderly woman tending to geraniums planted around a gravestone. A young couple walked arm in arm by me in obvious grief from the loss of a loved one.
My own emotions were mixed as I stood before Carter's grave. I read the words on his marble headstone:
CARTER DOUGLAS DELANEY
A Man Who Believed In Family
And Stood For The Law
I wasn't sure just how true those statements were. But I applauded Darlene for honoring the memory of her husband as best she could for their daughter, if nothing else.
I feared that somewhere along the line, Carter had forgotten all he once stood for and aspired to be. And in the end, it cost him his life and much of his legacy.
It had been three months since Carter's death. Trevor Baldwin had recovered from the mauling he took from Ollie and me and had been formally charged with the murders of Carter Delaney, Edwin Axelrod, and Antonio Ramirez. Baldwin's DNA was discovered outside my house, but close enough to put him inside, while Ramirez's DNA was found in Baldwin's cottage. Circumstantial evidence had more than filled in the blanks to tie Baldwin to the string of killings, along with attempting to murder me twice, breaking and entering, and a number of other charges. The prosecuting attorney's office had all it needed for a sure conviction. Meanwhile, the investigation was still ongoing in tying Baldwin to the deaths of Kalolo Nawahi and Kazuo Pelekai.
The one sure bet was that Trevor Baldwin would never again be able to hurt a living soul in the free world.
I held a dozen violets in my hand. Carter had once presented me with the same when he asked me to marry him. It was the memories of a time gone by that had brought me here on this overcast afternoon. Only it was the more recent past that cast a dark shadow over everything else between us.
My life was finally starting to return to normal, thanks in part to therapy sessions with Whitney. But some lingering thoughts continued to haunt me like a bad dream.
"Why couldn't you have let me go when you were alive?" I asked Carter out loud. "It might have saved many people undeserved grief and you, your life. I was never yours to worship or hold onto," I said to his headstone. "Whatever we had, you threw away. You should've been man enough to leave it at that and give your second family a fighting chance."
I could only hope that, with time, healing would come for Carter's daughter and even his widow, who deserved better, in spite of her own weaknesses.
Suddenly it no longer seemed important what my ex-husband's state of mind had been during his downward spiral. I could not and would not let him bring me down with him.
"These are for old time's sake, Carter," I said softly. I was about to put them on his grave when, at the last moment, I decided instead that they would look nice around the geraniums the old lady had prettied up for her dead husband.
Ollie had wandered off to a grave on the other side of the cemetery, as if he was in tune with the soul of the person buried there. I made eye contact and he came running.
Ridge was waiting for us by the car. He gave me an understanding smile. I gave him a long hug and said with finality: "Let's get on with our lives."
"You sure?" he asked with a catch to his voice.
I thought about it for less than a second, smiled at him, and replied: "Positive—"
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