his Ford Taurus.
“I hear ya,” was all Sam could say.
They drove in silence until they reached the Blue Moon Gallery. Sam saw Chuck’s wife, Lisa, waving furiously with one hand as she locked the front door with the other.
“Hello, Sam.” Lisa hugged Sam as he held open the car’s door for her. “This is all so sad. I was just telling Chuck the other day that I looked forward to his retirement. This is such a dangerous job; I fear for him every single day.” Lisa seemed to be the champion of the motor-mouth speedway as she illuminated Sam and Chuck on the potential hazards of their line of work. Her mouth only came to a stop when they reached the church.
Sam saw the beach’s entire police force, plus a few uniforms he knew were from Wilmington and Southport. He spotted Jenny being escorted by Andy Keller into a small “chapel” room that appeared to be full to capacity between its pale green walls. Sam watched as Jenny clutched Andy’s arm for support as if a strong gust of wind might blow her through the open windows at any minute.
Lee’s parents sat in the front row, and his brother, Larry, was there to offer support to his mother. Larry and Lee had never gotten along, Sam knew, and on the few occasions he had met Larry, Sam didn’t care too much for Larry’s bad attitude either. It seemed Larry felt entitled to more than his share of life, yet he wasn’t willing to do much to get it. Having spent years overseas with a big corporation gave him an attitude that he was somehow better than his only brother. On the rare occasions when he came to town, he gloated about his big house in New Jersey, and his trophy wife (who could never be bothered with coming to North Carolina to visit), and his shiny black Jaguar.
But when the corporation went belly up, he served time for embezzling corporate funds. Once he got out, he was no less humbled and let everyone he met know that the world “owed” him even more. He lost his big house, his fine car, and his trophy wife all in a matter of months. So he now sponged off of his parents, living in a small, one-room “cottage” on their property. He expected his mother to cook for him, and he didn’t lift a finger to help out around the house. He was sure the “next deal” would put him back on top of the world. Of course, it never came.
Sam recognized a few others who filed in solemnly: in addition to the police force, town officials, and support staff for the city of Carolina Beach, there was Edgar Reese, the owner of the Crow’s Nest Diner, Lee’s favorite place to grab lunch.
And here was Jenny’s best friend, Sally Hinton, with whom Jenny had tried to set Sam up several times. Sure, thought Sam, she’s hot—nice figure, but she’s like a cheerleader on a mega-dose of caffeine. Today was a case in point: Sally nearly mowed down three people to get to Jenny, embracing her and coddling her as Jenny rigidly sat down on a small pew right near the front of the room.
The line of people entering the chapel was long, filled with more friends and members of Lee’s church. Lee had been well-liked, Sam judged, by the number of folks who entered through the door.
Everyone who could get to a pew was seated, and the rest stood along the back of the room. Sam sat in the row behind Jenny, and he placed a hand on her stiff shoulder as the service began.
The minister was polite and practiced as he greeted his guests and wished everyone peace. He soon relinquished the short podium to one after another speaker, each of whom had something to say about Lee Elliott. The phrases “good man” and “pillar” were often recited.
After the fourth person got up to speak, Sam felt nauseous. He held on for the ride as long as he could. Mercifully, it ended with Jenny being presented Lee’s badge, a flag, and a small mock-brass container of ashes, all that was left of Lee.
Sam leaned over to help Jenny up, but Sally shot him a mother-bear look that almost included teeth, so Sam backed off and made his way out of the building.
The morning clouds were starting to burn off. People milled around outside with their own thoughts. Edgar offered a reception of