Chapter 36

The shrill cry of bagpipes rolled across green meadows—meadows pocked with gray headstones. The wail tumbled through skeletons formed by oak and elm branches still bare from winter, and sifted through a dense copse of pines. The music propelled an army in dark uniform, somber policemen whose black shoes whispered across the green, green grass. A copper sun in a cloudless sky played on buttons and badges as the sad-faced warriors marched down a winding blacktop lane.

Marched toward Lloyd Kendricks’ bronze-colored coffin.

Conley stood at the head of the casket, still holding the gold carrying handle. Mazzarelli wheezed from the exertion of carrying the coffin. Stefanos manned the other side. His face seemed softer today. Jaw line wasn’t so hard, eyes were glassy.

They stared in the general direction of Madie Kendricks and her boys—Madie in her long black dress and hat, dark lace covering her face, Kit and Leshawn in tailored black suits that looked sacrilegious on mourners so young.

The boys wore green carnations. Placing Kit’s at the funeral home hadn’t been easy. Leshawn tried to plug one in his younger brother’s lapel, but Kit pushed him away. A tussle ensued that ended when Leshawn explained “It’s for Dad.”

Conley glanced under the coffin, past the green straps supporting it over the grave. Dirt crumbled from the edge of the hole, became a wisp of dust, and powdered the bottom.

Cemetery workers stood near the road, watching the curiosity of a funeral as big as a rock concert, waiting. When the minister finally spoke, it felt as if God had commenced the Apocalypse.

“Welcome the Lord into your life every day, my friends.” He clutched the Bible with both hands, fingers pressed around the cover as if The Book might fly away. “Our great Lord needs to welcome you only once. And today He welcomes Lloyd, beloved husband, father, and friend.”

The pallbearers stepped away from the coffin, and when they walked past Madie she caught Stefanos by the arm and locked him in place next to her. She motioned Conley to her other side. With her face hidden behind the black veil, her whispers seemed more like thoughts than spoken words.

“Thank you. Thank you for your friendship.”

Stefanos’ face whitened. She pulled him closer.

“Thank you for loving Lloyd like I did.”

Conley closed his eyes and listened to the minister’s final prayer. The hardest words stayed with him.

Eternal…everlasting…forever…

Madie gently pushed her sons forward.

Kit followed his older brother to their father. They climbed the green skirt that surrounded the grave, and Kit bent briefly to look in the deep black hole. They laid their carnations on the casket.

The silence seemed impossible. Hundreds of mourners stood motionless, and when the preacher finally walked away, it felt like a signal for the world to turn on its axis again. Sage and Sheila Thompson cried softly.

Stefanos’ jaw twitched as he turned to Conley. His eyes were clear now, focused, and his thoughts needn’t be spoken.

Woe to Lloyd’s murderer.

Because mercy was an instrument they no longer had use for.