EPILOGUE

He saw Evelyn Kitchen at her brother’s internment, of course. The funeral itself was not held in their chapel as her mother’s and father’s funerals were. She apparently wanted as little to do with the Sandburg Cemetery as possible, but the grave sites were there, and of course she decided her brother should be beside her parents. Toxicology revealed Matthew Kitchen’s heart attack was not the result of any drug. Perhaps if it had, she wouldn’t have buried her brother near her father. Quinn was happy to hear that was the result of the investigation, not only because it rid them of Lieutenant Beck, but because it truly brought Evelyn Kitchen’s ordeal to an end.

To prevent any chatter or disturb the ceremony at the grave, Quinn kept out of sight, but from where he was, he could watch and saw Evelyn Kitchen carried herself as dignified as possible. Most of the sordid details had gotten out by now. There was little she could do about it.

After it was all over and everyone had left, he started up his backhoe and began to fill in Stuart Kitchen’s grave. He concentrated on doing a good, clean job of it and pushed all other thoughts from his mind. When he was finished, he put up the marker as usual and headed back to the garage. It had been an unusually warm day for this time of the year. He knew it was an anomaly and would probably not last for more than thirty-six or so hours at most. Winter here was not to be denied. At least Lou Siegman was happy today, he thought.

Later, he didn’t hear the car come up and park in the cemetery parking lot and wasn’t even aware that someone had entered the garage. When he turned to put his gloves in a drawer, however, he saw her standing there. For a moment he thought she was a figment of his imagination. He didn’t speak. She stepped more into the light.

‘I’m sorry I was unable to be honest with you from the beginning, Randy,’ she began. ‘I hope you understand.’

‘I do,’ he said.

‘I wanted you to know that I did not send Stuart here to harm you. I had to tell him what you said and he decided he would take care of it. He insisted I should not come along. I didn’t know he had taken one of my fashionable wigs to use to fool you at the start, but you see, Stuart always felt it was necessary to protect me. I have no other excuse for his behavior. I hope you believe me.’

‘I see no pleasure or benefit for believing otherwise, Evelyn.’

‘You may or may not believe this, but I never believed you were guilty of the things you were charged with and Stuart claimed were true. Before this happened here, I was struggling to find a way to help you.’

Quinn nodded.

‘No point in belaboring it now,’ he said. ‘I appreciate your coming here considering what happened and what I had to do.’

‘We’re all victims of actions and events beyond our control eventually,’ she said.

‘No doubt about that.’

‘I’m not sure why I feel I need to tell you all this now, Randy, but maybe it’s because we were both caught up in something that seriously affected our lives.’

She paused and stepped farther in and to the right. He could tell she was thinking carefully about what she was about to say, so he remained still, silent.

‘For as long as I can remember, my parents slept in separate bedrooms, as did Stuart and I. When my father was home, it was always he who came to kiss me goodnight and always he who came rushing to my room when I was frightened or sick. Our mother favored Stuart, but that never seemed to bother me because I had so much more of my father’s love.

‘His closeness to me never lessened as I grew older, and I never thought much of it, even when I was a teenager. He never missed an opportunity to have me with him. There were many trips during which we shared one bed.’

‘You don’t have to . . .’

‘I know, but I also know everything is out and probably the lead story on everyone’s lips. It eases my pain to talk to you about it now. Sometimes . . . sometimes, I blame myself as much if not more than I blame my father. Can you understand that?’

‘I suppose. Yes.’

‘It’s so much more convenient to play the role of the sexually abused daughter. It helps me live with all that happened, too.’

‘I understand.’

She smiled

‘Somehow, I believe you do. I really don’t know very much about you, but there was a kindness in your face that night we met here, a kindness that helped me get through it.’

‘I always admired you, Evelyn . . . from afar.’

She nodded.

‘Maybe in a different life . . .’

He shrugged.

‘As far as I know, this is it.’

She laughed.

‘I wish you luck, Randy. I think you’re strong enough to put it all behind you.’

She started to turn away to leave.

‘Evelyn?’

‘Yes?’

‘What are you going to do now?’

She smiled.

‘I think I would be happier somewhere else. I have an aunt who lives in London and she’s found me a town house. It’s always wise to return to your roots at times like this, not that there are many who get into times like this especially. I’m putting the estate up for sale and negotiating the sale of much of the property and businesses my father established. I’m looking for a new start. Maybe there is one out there.’

‘Oh, I can’t imagine there isn’t one for you,’ Quinn said.

‘Thank you.’

She gave him another one of those soft, angelic smiles and then she walked off. He stepped up to the doorway to watch her go to her car. Before she got in, she turned to him and for a moment, she looked just the way she had looked that first day when she and her brother had come to the funeral home to make her father’s arrangements. Just like then, he thought she was asking for something from him, and just like then, he wasn’t sure if she was or what it could be.

Perhaps, right from the beginning, she was asking for forgiveness, he thought.

He didn’t have the power to grant it completely. He could forgive her as regards himself, but she would have to go elsewhere for the rest of it.

She drove off and disappeared around a turn.

He left about twenty minutes later. Before he did, he walked up to the cemetery. It was still light enough to look out over the monuments. Once again, it looked quiet and tranquil. The trouble that had been in the hearts of those buried here was asleep, forgotten.

It wouldn’t be all that long before they would all be forgotten just the way they were in less expensive cemeteries everywhere. That was OK, he thought. The earth never forgot them.

‘What is a grave anyway?’ his father once asked when they were finished working for the day and the sun was on its way to the other side of the world. ‘A hole or a door?’

‘I don’t know, Dad. What do you think?’

‘I think it’s a door. Or at least I like to think it is. Makes me feel better about it. How about you?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It does.’

His father laughed, scrubbed his hair and put his arm around his shoulders as they started for home.

In the end that was the best place to be and always would be.