She felt strangely numb and adrift the rest of the day. The hours passed in a blur. She stood in the greeting line beside Ray’s mother. She was too immobilized by grief to even protest when Mrs. Quinn allowed Misty to stand on the other side of her and hug Ray’s mourners as though she had had any place of importance in his life. As though she had mattered that much to him. He never signed the divorce papers, Josie kept thinking. It was small solace.
She hugged every mourner, said the requisite words, half-listened as a pastor she had never met before gave Bible readings. No one gave a eulogy. Neither Josie nor Mrs. Quinn were in any shape to give one, and Ray’s best friend, Dusty, was in jail. After the service, a small group of mourners followed his casket to the cemetery. Josie and Lisette clutched one another and wept as they lowered Ray into the ground. Noah stood sentry behind them. He waited until they were ready to leave, which wasn’t until the graveyard workers finally asked them to go so they could finish their work.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
The next day, Josie sat next to Luke’s hospital bed, holding his warm, meaty palm in hers. They had moved him to a step-down unit, given him a private room, and taken away most of the equipment needed to keep him alive. Now he only had to wear the standard monitoring devices that checked his heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen saturation. All his numbers were stable. Carrieann said he had woken up the day before, briefly, while Josie was at Ray’s funeral. He had asked for Josie. Carrieann hadn’t told him anything, just that Josie would return soon. Then he had fallen back into a deep sleep. Now Josie waited. She could wait as long as she had to. Isabelle Coleman had been found and reunited with her family. The FBI was handling the Gosnell mess, which would likely take months. Ray had been laid to rest. She would have to attend Wayland Harris’s funeral in a few days, which was going to be a spectacular affair befitting her beloved chief. But other than that, she was free to sit with Luke and wait for him to come around. Noah could handle things at the department for a few days.
Josie was watching Luke’s chest rise and fall, her mind back on the conversation she had had with Lisette on the way to Ray’s funeral. Aside from her obvious grief over Ray’s death, Lisette was right. She did seem more at peace. Lighter. Josie would even venture to say happier. She kept thinking about the sparkle in Lisette’s eyes. The flash of triumph.
He’ll never make it to prison, Lisette had said with confidence. He’s too sick.
I mean, we caught her outside of his room a couple of times, just standing there, staring at him. I don’t think it’s healthy. Last night, one of the night shift nurses found her inside his room, standing over his bed.
Oh, Josie dear, he did pay. Don’t you give him another thought. Things have been set straight.
“Hey.” Luke’s voice cut through her thoughts. His hand squeezed hers gently. She looked over to see him smiling wanly at her.
She stood and leaned over him, holding his hand against her chest with both of hers. “Luke,” she breathed. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
He blinked a few times. “Fuzzy,” he said. “What the hell happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I remember leaving work, walking to my truck, that’s all. Carrieann said someone shot me.”
Josie nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
He opened his mouth to speak but the effort of the few words he’d already said seemed to wear him out. “It’s okay,” Josie told him. “Just rest. I’m not going anywhere. There will be plenty of time to fill you in later. We got the shooter. Everything is going to be okay.”
He closed his eyes. “I know it will be,” he said. “You’re here now.”
She relinquished his hand and sat back down, studying his face, surprised at how much better the sound of his voice made her feel. He would make a full recovery. They would get married, start a new chapter in both their lives.
She might even let him put a door on her bedroom closet.
Epilogue
Shortly after Luke was discharged from the hospital, Dirk Spencer’s condition took a turn for the better and, eventually, he was released to home where his sister, Lara joined him, caring for him as he recovered from his injuries. Josie checked in on them every couple of weeks. June had been committed to a psychiatric institute for inpatient treatment and evaluation while she awaited trial for the murder of Sherri Gosnell. The new interim District Attorney was hopeful that a plea bargain could be made so that June could get the psychiatric treatment she so desperately needed. Six months after Josie rescued her from Denton’s holding area, she had finally started saying words again.
Isabelle Coleman’s recovery moved much more quickly. The girl took on her return to normal life with an enthusiasm that, to Josie, sometimes smacked of desperation. She even decided she would attend college that fall as planned. But Josie knew that everyone dealt with trauma differently. Isabelle’s parents assured Josie that the girl would receive regular counseling, even when she went away to college.
Two months after the Gosnell case broke wide open, the woman who had accused Josie of excessive force when Josie was still a detective died of a drug overdose. The Mayor allowed Josie to continue as interim chief. At Special Agent Holcomb’s suggestion, the DA reviewed her statement about Nick Gosnell’s death, together with his autopsy report. After talks with the Mayor, the DA’s office decided not to press charges. Morale in Denton was at an all-time low, and Josie was being hailed as a hero for exposing Gosnell’s horrific crimes and putting a stop to them. The families of the victims being unearthed on the mountain were effusive in the press with their praise of Josie. Because of her, they said, they could finally lay their long-lost relatives to rest. It was decided that prosecuting Josie for the murder of the most hated man in Denton history after she had been held captive by him for two days—during which she had witnessed her husband’s death and nearly been raped—was public relations suicide. For this, Josie was grateful, but she was not sorry for killing Nick Gosnell.
Eight months and thirteen days after his death, little Ramona’s body was unearthed by an FBI team. Alton had buried her only steps from the Gosnells’ back door, which was why it had taken so long to find her. DNA taken from her remains confirmed that she was Lisette’s daughter. Josie spared no expense to give her the funeral she deserved. It seemed to give Lisette some peace to choose a coffin and headstone, to choose flowers and plan the service. The attendance was larger than Josie thought it would be, and this seemed to please Lisette as well. Finally, after more than sixty years, she could give voice to her howling grief and claim the daughter who had been denied to her both in life and in death. Many of Lisette’s friends from Rockview were there, as well as some members of the staff she had grown close to over the years. The Mayor, medical examiner and the new DA attended, as did Noah and a few other members of Denton PD. Luke stood steadfastly beside Josie as she watched the aunt she would never know being lowered into a grave that had been decades coming.
He slung her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. The girl hung as though lifeless down his back, her small hands swaying as the man moved. He carried her outside. Each step sent a lightning bolt of pain through her body. Blinking rapidly, she willed her eyes to adjust to the light. Finally, the ground came into focus: grass, leaves, and twigs. She couldn’t tell where he was taking her. She tried to lift her head to look around but she was too weak.