Buzz Almond’s funeral included all the pomp and circumstance befitting a man who’d served more than half his life as the sheriff. An honor guard of Marines and Klickitat County deputies stood stone-faced in crisp dress uniforms, white-gloved hands gripping the handles of a flag-draped casket. Jenny Almond, who’d succeeded her father as sheriff, stood with her two older sisters, their mother pinched tight between them, arms interlocked. Three spouses and seven grandchildren took their places behind the women.
Tracy had colleagues whose spouses worried each time they left the house, but in the end, it wasn’t bullets or bad guys that killed the large majority of cops. It was the same insidious diseases that befell all humanity. For Theodore Michael “Buzz” Almond Jr., it had been colon cancer. He was sixty-seven.
The procession stopped at the foot of brick steps leading to the entrance of Saint Peter’s Catholic Church. A priest and two altar boys, their robes rippling in the breeze, descended the steps and greeted the family. Tracy knew they would remember little of this day, as she remembered little of her father’s funeral. She took Dan’s hand as the members of the honor guard lifted the casket onto their shoulders and two bagpipers blew the mournful wail of the Highland pipes that had carried her father and now would carry Buzz Almond home.
They held the public reception at the Stoneridge High School gymnasium, the only building in town large enough to accommodate the crowd who’d come to pay their respects. A private reception followed at the family home, and Jenny had invited Tracy and Dan. As she and Dan drove there, they passed orchards of fruit trees and rolling fields. The only disruption to the open space was a construction site for an impressive athletic complex rising above a manicured football field. A billboard-size sign staked in the lawn identified the contractor as Reynolds Construction.
State Route 141 wound farther into the foothills, and after another five minutes they left the pavement altogether for a dirt-and-gravel road that led to an expanse of lawn and a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Young boys in khakis and barefoot girls in Sunday dresses ran around cradling a football and swinging on a rope swing in the yard of a two-story white clapboard farmhouse partially shaded by the limbs of cottonwood and birch trees. The home had a pitched roof, black shutters, and a wraparound porch with ornate pillars and a spindle railing, where several adults stood watching the children.
Dan parked the Tahoe alongside half a dozen other vehicles, and Jenny descended the porch steps to greet them.
“You found it,” she said.
“It’s beautiful,” Tracy said.
“Come on inside.”
Jenny led Tracy and Dan through a blur of introductions, mostly for Dan’s benefit; Tracy had met the family at Jenny’s wedding and had visited after the birth of each of her two children. She and Dan again offered their condolences to Jenny’s mother, who sat in a chair in the living room holding Jenny’s little girl, Sarah, named in honor of Tracy’s sister.
“Look who’s here, Sarah,” Jenny said.
Tracy hadn’t seen the little girl recently. Her golden curls extended to her shoulders, and she had a gap between her two front baby teeth. Tracy held out her arms, but Sarah buried her chin in her grandmother’s shoulder, sneaking cautious glances.
“Are you going to be shy now?” Jenny said, lifting her. “Go see your auntie Tracy. Go on.”
Tracy smiled and held out her arms again. “Can I have a hug?”
Sarah looked to Jenny, who nodded. Then the little girl leaned out, and Tracy pulled her close, taking in the beautiful scent of childhood.
Sarah held up three stubby fingers. “I’m free,” she said.
“I know.”
Jenny’s husband, Neil, emerged from the kitchen holding two beers. “Dan, the men are about to take on that horde of boys and girls out there in a game of flag football. I don’t suppose we could interest you in helping us out. I have a cooler of cold beers if that helps influence your decision.”
Dan took the beer. “Just point me in the right direction.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Tracy said.
“Momma, can you watch Sarah a while longer?” Jenny said. “I want to talk to Tracy for a minute.”
“Of course I can,” Anne Almond said. “Come give Gramma some lovin’, honey.”
Tracy handed Sarah back to her grandmother and followed Jenny. The house was dark hardwood floors, antique light fixtures, and modest but well-cared-for furniture. Framed family portraits and photographs adorned the walls and the fireplace mantel. Jenny led Tracy to a study at the back of the house. A bay window looked out over the lawn, where the flag football game was getting under way.
“This house is incredible,” Tracy said.
“The dollar goes a lot further here than in Seattle, especially back in the seventies. Plus, my parents got some help from my mom’s parents,” Jenny said. “They bought the house and the apple orchard, then sold most of the orchard to the neighbor. It was a great place to grow up, but now we’re worried my mom’s going to be lonely out here by herself.”
“She won’t move?” Tracy’s mother had been unwilling to leave their huge home in Cedar Grove after her husband’s death.
“Right now the home gives her comfort. We’ve lined up a ten-day cruise up the Rhine River with her sister. We’ll talk about it more when she gets back. Until then, we’ll all take turns looking in on her.”
“She’s lucky to have so much family.” Tracy still felt guilt for leaving her mother in Cedar Grove when she moved to Seattle, though she knew she had to go, for her own mental well-being. “Sarah’s getting so big.”
“We survived the terrible twos, barely.” Jenny smiled. “You did so much for me, Tracy. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably still be working at Costco, I never would have met Neil, and I never would have had Trey or Sarah.”
When Tracy and Jenny met at the Academy, Jenny had been barely twenty, an eager young woman who wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps but who had little chance of graduating. Homesick and overwhelmed by the workload, Jenny had been living in a depressing motel room. Tracy insisted Jenny move into Tracy’s two-bedroom apartment and join Tracy’s study group and training team. Jenny’s scores improved dramatically, and Tracy taught her to shoot well enough to pass her qualifying exam.
“You would have found your way. You have found your way.”
Jenny leaned against the desk, clearly emotionally spent after a long couple of days. “I’m going to miss my dad. Maria and Sophia lost their father too, but I also lost a mentor and a friend. The first few days in the office without him were tough.”
“You’ll do fine, Jenny.”
“Dan seems nice. Do you think he might be the one?”
Tracy shrugged. “I’d like to think so,” she said, “but it’s been a crazy year. At least he hasn’t dumped me.”
“Are you kidding? He’s in love with you. He came to a funeral for a friend of yours he’s never met. That’s love.”
“I hope so,” she said.
Jenny walked behind the desk. “So, I have an ulterior motive for bringing you back here. There’s something I was hoping to discuss with you. The timing could be better, I know, but I thought I should do it now or I might not ever get around to it.” She pulled out a six-inch-thick brown legal file from the desk drawer and set it on top.