Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Chapter 11

  Two days later, Midnight stood in front of her mirror with haunted eyes. She wore a black dress of Victorian lace. Her hair was pulled back from her face, held by pearl combs and she wore the lightest amount of makeup consisting of mascara, blush, and a touch of lipstick. Rick was stunned by her appearance; he couldn’t help but think about how beautiful she looked, despite the sobriety of the day. Midnight turned and looked at Rick, her eyes sad and full of dread. Rick went to her and she stepped into his embrace.

  “Are you going to be okay, Night?” he asked, his lips near her ear.

  She looked up at him, her face set in determination. “I have to do this, Rick, I have to. He was …” Her voice trailed off as tears came to her eyes again.

  “Okay babe, okay,” Rick said soothingly, as he hugged her again.

  Joe walked in. Both he and Rick were dressed in dark suits. At any other time Midnight would have been amazed that they could dress up so nicely, but today, she wasn’t seeing anything.

  Rick looked over at Joe, his concern for Midnight’s well-being reflected in Joe’s eyes. Midnight stepped away from him and looked at Joe.

  “We need to go,” Joe said, his voice very sober.

  Midnight nodded as she walked to the door. Joe and Rick looked at each other for a long moment. Both men had been very worried about how she was going to handle the strain of this day. They made a silent agreement to watch her carefully and protect her from everything they could. But Midnight was remembering another funeral, another time.

  Joe drove the Jaguar that he had bought years before. It was still in mint condition, and was appropriately black, befitting the occasion. He drove to Randy’s house first, and went to the door to get her. Randy answered the door; she too was wearing black. Her dress was black cotton with a black jacket over it. Her hair was pulled back into a French twist, and much like Midnight wore the smallest amount of makeup. She looked very subdued. Joe put his arm around her as they walked out to the car. He looked back over his shoulder, catching sight of Darrell in the front doorway, but he didn’t say anything.

  They arrived at the church where the service was to be held and walked inside. Midnight and Randy walked in front with Joe and Rick behind them. They made a very striking foursome, and many heads turned despite the sad occasion. They were very surprised to see that there were at least three hundred police officers in dress uniform standing among the pews of the church. All twenty-five members of FORS were in attendance. Midnight hesitated, her eyes taking in the officers, and then going to the coffin in the front of the church. Randy reached over and touched her hand. Midnight looked at the younger woman, her eyes showing a little bit of surprise at Randy’s apparent strength. Midnight smiled slightly at Randy and squeezed her hand. Joe and Rick exchanged a surprised look behind the two women. Midnight, still clasping Randy’s hand, started to walk again. Many of the officers inclined their heads to Midnight in a gesture of respect. She inclined hers in response. She saw Tom Ryan then and went over to hug him.

  “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this again, little one,” Tom said in her ear.

  Tom had realized the minute he’d heard about Tim, what would be going through her mind. When they parted, Midnight had tears in her eyes again. Rick stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders comfortingly.

  “Thanks for coming, Tom,” Midnight said, smiling at him through her tears. Tom nodded, eyeing Rick, Joe, and Randy who were standing around Midnight like a shield.

  “It looks like you’ve got a good support group this time, but if you need anything, you call me,” Tom said, his eyes on Midnight. She nodded to him.

  There was movement in the back of the church then and Joe saw that it was what must be Tim’s family arriving. Joe and Rick ushered Midnight and Randy to a seat in one of the front pews. Joe and Rick flanked Midnight and Randy.

  During the course of the service, silent tears fell from Randy’s eyes, and at seeing them, Joe reached over and took her hand in his. She didn’t look at him, she just held onto his hand with both of hers.

  Rick glanced at Midnight frequently. She wasn’t crying, but he could see by the faraway look in her eyes that she was reliving her brother’s funeral. After a few minutes, he put his arm around her, and felt her lean heavily against him. He knew this was hitting her hard, but he also knew how strong she was. She was determined to make it through this, and Rick was determined to help her.

  After the service, they made their way to the gravesite. When Midnight got out of the car, she hesitated again, leaning back against the car with her eyes closed. Rick noticed it first, he turned to her his eyes filled with concern.

  “Midnight,” he said.

  She was shaking her head with tears flowing from her eyes. “I can’t do this I can’t do this, not again,” she was saying softly as if she were talking to herself. Rick looked at Joe who had come up beside him.

  At an unspoken agreement, Joe moved to Midnight. Without a word, he took her in his arms. She held him tightly, holding on to him as if she were drowning.

  “Shhh,” Joe said.

  She was crying now. He was stroking her back, his head bowed down to hers.

  “I can’t, Joe, I can’t,” she said, her voice desperate. “It’s my fault, I can’t.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” said a voice from behind them.

  They all turned to see a young man of about twenty-three standing with an older couple. None of them had noticed the three standing just off to the side, watching the scene. The young man who had spoken was obviously David Bollings. He was looking at Midnight with regret and sorrow in his eyes.

  “It’s my fault he’s dead, don’t blame yourself. You were trying to help him.” His voice was shaky, but calm.

  Midnight regarded this young man for a few moments, tears still in her eyes. She shook her head at him. “It’s not your fault, either then,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Your brother joined the gang on his own and actually, you probably kept him alive longer by being in it with him. Tell me …” Midnight’s voice took on a mentoring tone. Rick and Joe exchanged a knowing look over her head. “How many times did you step in for him, and save his butt? How many times before he joined the gang, did he tell you that if he didn’t join your gang, he’d join another one?”

  David Bollings was looking at her with surprise on his face. “How did you know that?” he asked quietly.

  “Trust me, I’ve been there. You can’t blame yourself, David. It’s very sad that Tim died, but if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that everything has its meaning, so we have to find out what that is.” Midnight looked at the older couple then. “Are you Tim’s parents?”

  They nodded.

  “You should be very proud of both of your sons. Tim was working with me to try to stop this gang, at his own personal risk …” Her voice trailed off, as she stated the obvious. “I understand that David was doing his best to extricate himself from the gang’s hold but it’s never as easy as it sounds. What David is going to need right now is his family around him. Please don’t blame him for what has happened. He had no way to control it I know these kind of people, and if David had done anything, you’d be burying him today too.” Midnight’s voice was soothing, but firm. She didn’t want David’s parents to hate him, like her own parents hated her.

  Mrs. Bollings looked at Midnight for a long moment with tears in her eyes; she had realized when she had seen her at the church that this was Lieutenant Chevalier. She had been surprised at her slight appearance.

  She had been very impressed with Sergeant Sinclair’s demeanor on the phone the day he had told her that her son had been killed. He had been sincere in his sympathies. And now Midnight Chevalier had just put aside her grief to try to help the Bollings work through theirs. She was very impressed by what the young woman had said. She was also touched at how much the death of Tim had affected her. But even so, she was able to be strong for David. Emma Bollings made a mental not
e to write to the chief of police about this astounding young woman and her staff.

  “Thank you,” Emma Bollings said, tears in her eyes. Then she looked at Joe. “You are Sergeant Sinclair?” she asked. Joe nodded. “Thank you so much for the lovely service you arranged, and everything you’ve done to make this day go easier on us all.”

  Her eyes showed sincere gratitude. Her husband, who had yet to speak, nodded. It was obvious that he was very upset by the death of his son. Emma Bollings moved to Midnight and to Midnight’s surprise hugged her.

  “Thank you,” Emma said again, in Midnight’s ear.

  When they parted, there were tears in Midnight’s eyes again. She nodded to Tim’s mother.

  The gravesite ceremony was punctuated by a brief statement from the chief of police. Midnight had declined to speak simply because she didn’t feel that she could pull it off with the dignity that she felt Tim deserved without becoming a tearful mess. An American flag was retired and given to Tim’s mother, who cried and nodded to the chief when he handed it to her and saluted. Taps was played and a twenty-one-gun salute signaled the end of the funeral. Midnight stood with her eyes staring straight ahead and her chin up in quiet dignity. Every so often a tear would stream down her cheek, but she was no longer outwardly hysterical.

  Rick stood behind and slightly to the side of Midnight, his hand behind her elbow, his eyes watchful for any sign that she might not be able to handle all of it. But she did.

  Randy stood by watching the funeral with a quiet dignity of her own. She could feel Joe standing right behind her and she drew strength from his presence. At one point, she glanced back at him and saw the stricken look in his eyes. Knowing that he was thinking of his parents, Randy reached her hand behind her and took his hand, squeezing it gently. When she glanced at him again, he gave her a small smile, but continued to hold her hand.

  The members of FORS looked like a gang that somebody had tried to dress up. They looked very uncomfortable, but as professional as the motley group could look. They were very respectful of the sadness of the occasion. Spider and Tammy were even in attendance. Although Spider had not returned to work yet, and had not known Tim, he still felt the loss.

  After the funeral, the members of FORS congregated around Midnight and Joe, lending their support to their fearless leaders. They reluctantly made way for the chief, who had come over to speak with Midnight, but they all stood by warily. They were ever protective of their boss, even with the chief.

  “Lieutenant Chevalier,” the chief said, taking her hand. “I’m very sorry about your loss.”

  Midnight nodded, looking down, trying to keep her tears from starting again.

  “I just spoke with Mrs. Bollings and she wanted me to be sure to convey to you and Sergeant Sinclair”—the chief glanced up at Joe—“that she appreciates your efforts and your gestures through this whole incident. She also wanted me to let you know, Midnight, that she in no way holds you or any member of FORS responsible for Tim’s death.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” Midnight said, her voice quiet. The chief nodded.

  “Now, Midnight, I want you to let me know if you need anything from the rest of the department to catch this gang. I want them taken down, and I know that your unit,” his eyes touched on each and every member of FORS, “is capable of doing it.” His voice was strong and sure, and every member of FORS stood a little bit taller at the sound of them.

  “Damn straight!” someone said, and the everyone’s surprise, the chief laughed.

  “Keep me apprised of your progress, Lieutenant,” the chief said then, squeezing her hands.

  She nodded again. “I will, sir.” She looked up at him, her eyes burning with the usual fire that he saw in them, and he truly believed she would not fail him.

  As the chief walked away, he thought about Midnight Chevalier. She had certainly proved to be a valuable asset to the Department. When she had first brought the idea of FORS to him, he had been a little skeptical that the unit would work. How did one recruit and control gang members? But FORS had worked, very well indeed. There had been a couple of incidents when someone from the team gotten too rough with a gang member, but Midnight kept a pretty tight rein on her people and they were obviously devoted to her.

  The chief found it astounding that these young people, many of whom had run with a gang for a long time, could be so loyal and determined working for a law enforcement agency. In fact, Midnight had recommended a couple of them for the police academy and the chief was seriously considering approving those requests. Midnight had been nominated for a statewide Officer of the Year award by the attorney general. The chief found himself ever happy that he had approved Midnight’s idea from the get go. It made him look good to have officers of their caliber working for him, and he knew it.

  Joe, Rick, Midnight, and Randy were getting into Joe’s car when Mrs. Bollings approached them. They had been invited back to the Bollings house, but Midnight wasn’t sure she could handle anymore, and so Joe had let them know that they wouldn’t be coming. Mrs. Bollings approached Midnight who was standing with her back to the car, her hands holding tightly to the door handle behind her.

  “Ms. Chevalier,” Emma Bollings said with a warm smile, “I just wanted to thank you again, for everything, and to tell you that I think that you are a very incredible woman. In my quest for knowledge about my son’s activities, I had occasion to learn of your own beginnings, and subsequent achievements, and they are astounding. You should be very proud of yourself.”

  There was no derision in the older woman’s voice, only warmth and understanding. Midnight smiled at her, still feeling guilt over Tim’s death. “But you’re not proud of yourself are you? You’re thinking that you could have done something to protect my son, but you’re wrong. Your words to David proved that, and perhaps it would have been your funeral your friends here were attending today. Ms. Chevalier, my son was very special to me, I loved him very much, but blaming the person that is trying to keep things like this from happening again, isn’t going to bring Tim back and I know that. It wasn’t your fault, Ms. Chevalier, and I sincerely hope that you will come to believe that soon.” Mrs. Bollings looked at Midnight for a few minutes, her eyes concerned and sad.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bollings. That does mean a lot to me. I only hope that you will stay in touch with us, so we can let you know when we catch your son’s murderer. And be assured, ma’am that we will catch him.” Midnight’s voice was strong and determined and Emma Bollings didn’t doubt her for a minute.

  Joe, Midnight, Randy, and Rick went back to Midnight’s house, none of them wanting to be alone. It was Midnight that went to the wet bar first. She picked up a bottle of Southern Comfort and a shot glass, and sat back down on the couch. The other three watched her as she poured and downed three shots in a row. Joe got up and went over to retrieve a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, one for him and one for Rick. He looked at Randy, holding up a third glass.

  “I’m only twenty,” she said softly.

  “There are two cops in this room that didn’t hear that, and we won’t tell them,” Joe said, smiling at her.

  “Okay,” Randy said, nodding.

  Joe and Rick knocked back a couple of shots. Midnight was now nursing the half glass of the Southern Comfort she’d poured. Randy ended up with Baileys. Everyone sat around in a comfortable silence for a while. Every now and then, someone would say something and a small discussion would start. For the most part, they mulled over their own thoughts. After a couple of hours, they all decided that they were hungry.

  Midnight suggested they order Chinese food. “I know the best take out Chinese in the world!” she said, and that reminded her of Mike. “Hey,” she said, looking at Joe, “you know I don’t remember seeing Mike Harlow at the funeral today.”

  “Maybe he was on duty. He usually works days, doesn’t he?” Joe replied.

  “Yeah, but he’s not one to miss something like this. Besides even if it was his regular shift, he
’s a training sergeant. I don’t know, it’s just a little weird.” Midnight shrugged, it was hard to know why he hadn’t shown up.

  They ordered dinner and ate when it arrived. An hour later Joe stood looking at Randy. She was half-asleep.

  “I better take Randy home, before her brother calls missing persons or something.” He grinned down at Randy and she stood up.

  Midnight stood too and reached up to hug Joe. “Thanks, for everything,” she said, her voice soft. Joe squeezed her a little tighter in response.

  “Anything for you, love,” he replied, his lips right next to her ears. The sound of his voice brought tears to Midnight’s eyes, as well as to Randy’s who had overheard him.

  Midnight turned to Randy and hugged her. When they parted, Midnight took both of Randy’s hands. “You’ve been a kind of silent party in all of this, but I want you to know, that I appreciate everything you have done these last few weeks. I know you’ve helped Joe through some of this too, and I also appreciate that. I know that this job is causing some friction for you at home, and, I just want you to know that if you ever need anything, a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, whatever, I’m here, okay?”

  Randy nodded, with tears in her eyes. Randy respected Midnight more than anyone she had ever met, for all she had accomplished and all she had gone through, especially recently. It meant a lot to her that Midnight was willing to be there for her. She hoped that someday she’d be able to return the favor.

  Joe and Randy left, and Midnight turned to Rick.