Shirlee McCoy - Running Blind

And now he found himself attending the funeral of a woman he didn’t know, offering support to someone he barely knew.

For sure he was changing, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

He skirted past a young couple carrying a crying toddler, bypassed several older couples and found a spot a dozen yards from the gravesite. Rain splashed onto his head and dripped down his face, but he didn’t bother wiping it away.

Under the tent, the pastor began to speak, his deep voice carrying across the cemetery, the words meant to comfort. How, though, could one find comfort in death? Even knowledge of God and Heaven did not take away the sting of goodbyes said too early. Nikolai had said enough of them to know that.

Magdalena Romero had been shot in cold blood. The truth of that tainted the victorious message of everlasting life that the pastor offered. Had a woman so admired by so many been involved in drug trafficking? That seemed to be the angle the DEA was pursuing. Nikolai had heard the same from the Mexican police he’d spoken to.

Yet Jenna was convinced of her friend’s innocence.

Either way, a young mother was gone, her son childless, her husband a widower.

The pastor finished speaking and family members placed pink and white roses on top of the casket. One by one, the mourners who’d braved the weather did the same. One by one, they said their goodbyes, shook the rain off their shoes and got back into their cars. A dark-haired man ushered a toddler away from the grave. The little boy splashed in a puddle near one of the limousines. Was he Magdalena’s child? If so, he was much too young to understand the finality of his mother’s death and burial.

It didn’t take long for the gravesite to empty of all but a few mourners. The dark-haired man and the child were joined by an older couple, and the four climbed into the limousine. The driver slowly pulled away.

Jenna stood beneath the tent, her umbrella held loosely in her hand. Kane and an older couple stood to her right. She said something, and the three walked toward a dark sedan parked nearby, leaving Jenna in front of the casket.

Alone, she seemed much smaller than Nikolai remembered. More fragile and less tough. In his memory, she’d been someone for whom losing would never be an option. Looking at her now, seeing her bowed shoulders and head, he had the impression of defeat rather than victory.

Grass and water sloshed under his feet as he crossed the space between them. The tent was nearly empty, the funeral home staff hovering a respectable distance away, waiting for the last mourner to leave. Hundreds of roses covered the gleaming mahogany casket, and the area surrounding the grave was littered with glistening petals. Nikolai lay his rose on top of the pile, saying a silent prayer for Magdalena’s family.

“She would have loved this.” Jenna spoke quietly, and Nikolai turned, his breath catching as he looked into her eyes. He’d been wrong to think she was vulnerable, to believe that she was defeated. There was fire in her pale blue eyes, and a need for revenge that Nikolai understood only too well.

“You’re Nikolai, right?” She smiled and took a step toward him, the scent of vanilla hanging in the air as she offered her hand.

“That’s right.” He clasped hands with her, feeling the strength of her fingers and the calloused ridges on her palms.

“I thought so, but my vision wasn’t that great when we last saw each other, and I wasn’t sure.”

“I wondered if you’d recognize me.”

“I almost didn’t. I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“I wanted to pay my respects, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Thank you. For both things.” She stepped past him, the scent of vanilla stronger as she placed her hand on the lid of the coffin. “She was much too young to die.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

She glanced over her shoulder, offering a sad smile. “I suppose so, but Magdalena really was young. Just thirty. With a young son who needed her.” She shook her head, let her hand fall away from the casket. “It shouldn’t have happened. I want to know why it did.”

“Your brother told me that when we spoke last.”

“And that’s why you’re really here? To make sure I don’t go running off to Mexico in some mad quest for revenge?”

“I already told you why I’m here.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that my brother needs to get back to Washington and doesn’t want to leave me here for a few days?”

“He mentioned that, but it’s not my reason for coming.”

“No? So Kane never asked you to play bodyguard when he returns to Spokane?”

“Not in so many words.”

“I knew it. I’m going to have to have a talk with that brother of mine.” She would have walked away, but Nikolai put a hand on her arm, holding her in place. Despite the fire in her eyes and the calluses on her hands, she was very thin, her bone structure fine. He loosened his grip, not wanting to bruise her.

“Your brother simply asked me to check in on you a few times while you were in Houston. Since I live just a few miles from the hotel, it wasn’t an unreasonable request.”

“You don’t need to check in on me at all, Nikolai. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“That’s what I told your brother.”

“Yet you’re still here.”

“Would you rather I not have come?”

She frowned, smoothing a hand over her hair, her thick bangs parting to reveal the fading bruise on her forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Too many people asking too many questions that don’t make sense, I guess. But, then, none of this makes sense.” She gestured to the casket. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“How are her husband and son holding up?”

“John is…stoic. There’s been a lot of media attention surrounding the case, and I think he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. Little Benjamin keeps asking when his mother is coming home. I don’t think he can wrap his mind around the word never. He’s too young to understand and too young to retain many memories of his mother.”

“He’ll have you and his father and his family to remind him.”

“Yes. That’s true.” She turned back to the casket, bowing her head, perhaps praying as Nikolai had done. Did she wonder, as he often did, how God could allow good people to die so brutally? Or did she simply accept that the world was a sinful and fallen place and that tragedy was not limited to those who truly seemed deserving of it?

The wind gusted, blowing rain under the tent and scattering rose pedals across the slick green grass. Jenna shivered. “I guess this is it, then. Goodbye, dear friend.” She kissed her fingers, set them on the casket one last time and turned away.

Nikolai fell into step beside her as she walked away, not speaking, knowing there was nothing he could say that would ease Jenna’s grief.

The silence lasted until they reached the black sedan and the door opened, Kane stepping out into the rain. “Umbrellas are more useful when they’re open, Jen. You’d better get in the car where it’s dry,” he said, nodding a greeting at Nikolai.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” she responded, not bothering to do as he’d asked. “Will you be coming to the reception, Nikolai?”

“I understood it was only for close friends and family.”

“And their guests. There’s no reason why you can’t be one of mine.”

“It might be best if I leave the family to their privacy.”

“John is expecting 150 people. I don’t think privacy is something he’s worried about. Besides, I had a proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”

“A proposition?”

“A job.”