Bridey was buried the next afternoon. It was a beautiful winter’s day. The sun was shining, and the weather had taken a turn upward; the temperature had reached the midforties.
Her service was a mass, just as she would have wanted. At the graveside, the mourners joined hands to sing “Danny Boy.”
Caer liked the other Flynns very much, and she found Rowenna to be charming, but Zach had taken to keeping a distance from her. He seemed angry.
She should have expected it, she thought.
She had told him the truth, but he didn’t believe her. Perhaps he didn’t want to, or perhaps he simply couldn’t. What had she been thinking to blurt things out as she had? She’d had to say something, and she’d had plenty of time to think up a clever answer. So why hadn’t she?
She didn’t know.
They held the post-funeral gathering at a large pub, which they’d rented for the evening. There were at least two hundred people in attendance. Caer found herself constantly in the company of one of the O’Rileys, Cal and Marni, or Tom and Clara. She was made to feel valued, almost a part of the family.
There was plenty to eat and drink, and Bridey was honored, but, as always among the living, people couldn’t keep from talking about the latest news.
That morning, the newspaper had reported the disappearance of Gary Swipes. The article noted that he was a highly trained police officer, that he was well versed in self-defense, and that the amount of blood suggested that he had been murdered.
Eddie’s case was brought up again, one disappearance leading the reporter to try to link it to another.
Detective Morrissey was there, along with a large number of off-duty officers, Sean and Bridey being fixtures in the community. Lots of local businesspeople were also in attendance, including Jorey, who kept trying to park himself near Caer.
Looking up at one point, she noticed that Zach was watching the two of them and frowning.
She excused herself and walked over to join him. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then seemed to relent. He shook his head. “Nothing. I guess I’m just worried about Jorey now. He did what I asked him to do—he called Morrissey. And then he went above and beyond, and went down to the station. So now I’m worried about him, too.”
Sean called Zach over to say hello to an old friend, and Caer turned to rejoin Jorey, but she didn’t see him anymore. Perhaps affected by Zach’s fears, she wandered through the crowd looking for him, but she still couldn’t find him.
She left the restaurant and walked down the steps. The day had been warm, but the temperature was dropping as darkness fell. She hugged herself, feeling the chill ripple through her. Flesh and blood. Not always comfortable.
“Jorey?” she called. Nothing. She called louder.
Then she saw him, caught in the glow of a streetlight further down the sidewalk. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket, and Caer watched as his shadow lengthened. He must be going home, she thought.
She almost turned to go back in.
But then she saw the birds.
They were covering the roof of the restaurant. They were perched on nearby fences, and even atop the cars in a nearby parking lot.
“Jorey,” she called again, genuinely uneasy now; she hurried along the sidewalk in the direction he’d taken.
She couldn’t tell who, but someone else was passing beneath the streetlamp. His shadow was huge, stretching up and out. It was a trick of light, she knew, yet…
Caer started running. She suddenly knew that she had to reach Jorey.
The second figure turned as she ran past. She ignored him and had almost reached Jorey, who heard the sound of her footsteps and turned.
And then she felt the pain.
Staggering, horrible, numbing pain.
She had felt it before, but…
This time it was different. Now…
There was something in her back. A knife.
Oh, yes, she knew exactly what it was!
She knew she had to remove the object, and quickly. She caught hold of the hilt and strained to pull straight out.
Jorey ran back toward her, and he was staring at her in horror.
“Help!” he screamed. “Help!” He caught hold of Caer, who held the knife in her hand as Jorey helped her gently down to sit on the curb.
“My God,” he said to her. “You saved my life. That was meant for…for me. Help!” he shouted again. “You’re bleeding…you could bleed to death. We have to get you to a hospital.”
The knife was covered with blood, but she could already feel the pain receding; the wound was closing quickly.
“I’m all right. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Are you insane? You were stabbed in the back. Help! Someone help!”
“It’s all right,” Caer told him.