Here I Am. Send Me.--Chapter Twenty

Evelyn attends the funeral of John Toland and tries to get someone to see new clues.

CHAPTER TWENTY

John Toland's visitation of the night before had not been advertised, and Evelyn had not been invited. The same was true of the graveside service later in the day. The open service was conducted at Mount Olivet Cemetery, which, luckily, was not far from her apartment in Madison. When she checked her more formal attire with her uniform shirt in the mirror, she looked like a pool salesperson. So, she had found a grey blazer in her closet which she hadn't worn since college. It covered most of the company logo but felt more appropriate.

Amanda's request that she shake hands with Metro bigwigs before the service was torpedoed when Evelyn arrived just seconds before it started. Everyone was seated, and there were no open chairs. She found herself standing in the back of the room, surrounded by the whirring and clicking of cameras from the local news outlets.

The room was a sea of navy blue as the Metro Police turned out in force, and, even on a chilly day, the air conditioning was not keeping up with the packed house. She scanned the room, looking for someone from PD with whom she could talk. It was more than obligatory corporate glad-handing; she needed someone to listen. But, from her viewpoint in the back, all the blue coats and short haircuts looked alike.

The Chaplain Coordinator of the Police Department kicked it off with a brief eulogy, followed by Toland's precinct captain, and then the mayor finished off. The acoustics of the crowded room were such that she couldn't understand a word.

The speaking came to an end, two songs were sung, then everyone stood up and moved toward the exits. Evelyn looked from face to face as they approached and finally spotted the sergeant who had interviewed her the day after the school shooting. She didn't remember the name, but that could be rectified with a glance at his nametag. She pursued him into the parking lot.

"Excuse me... Sergeant?"

Three men within earshot turned around. She smiled timidly at two of them and pointed toward the third. She was within five feet before she could read his name. "Sergeant Wilson, can I have a word with you?"

He waited for her to finish her approach. "You're the social worker, right? The one that rode with John?"

"Co-responder, yes, sir. When I spoke with you two days ago, I told you about the fact that the shooters called out the name of a little girl."

"I remember."

"Our chaplain and I spent Wednesday night and yesterday speaking with people who were close to the same little girl. And last night, two men came to my door and questioned my roommate about me. And then later, the chaplain was attacked."

That got his attention. "Attacked! Where?"

"At the store where he works as a security guard."

"So, some people broke into the store?"

"I think they threw a brick through the window or something."

"Where is this store?"

"On Lower Broadway. Across from the Arena."

"Did the assailants mention the girl's name again?"

"I don't know. Chris didn't say."

"Did he report the attack?"

"Of course. The police spoke to him at the hospital."

"I'll look into it. Now, these men who showed up at your door. Did they mention the girl's name?"

"I don't think so."

"Did they leave their names?"

"No. They just said that they would be back."

"I'm not seeing a strong connection between your colleague's attackers and the men at your door. And I don't see anything tying it to the girl."

"John and I were called to the girl's house on Monday. The school shooting was on Tuesday. And these men came to my apartment, and Chris was attacked on Thursday. That is a lot to happen in four days."

"It is, but correlation does not imply causation. What you have right now isn't strong enough to even be called a coincidence. It is just four events that happened in a short period. I'll check on the incident with the chaplain, and if those men come back to your apartment, don't open the door. Then call us. If there's nothing else, today is my day off."

"No. There's nothing else."

Evelyn watched him turn and head for his car, loosening his tie as he went.

His points were fair, but this didn't feel like a coincidence. She needed to talk with Chris about his attack... She pulled up short. She needed to speak with Chris about lots of things. But that was one of them, and she needed to compare notes between the men with whom Beth had spoken at the apartment and the men that had attacked Chris. If they looked enough alike or had something unique, like a custom tattoo, then maybe she could get the police interested.

As she got into her car, she was honest enough with herself to know that speaking with Beth and Chris at the same time, while logically defensible, was a means to avoid what could be an awkward conversation--or an awkward non-conversation--with Chris. There was no way around it; awkward was in her future.

The line of cars waiting to get out of the cemetery and onto Lebanon Pike was a long one, which gave her plenty of time to think. The previous four days had been the most tumultuous of her life, so there was no need to turn on the radio. Plenty was playing in her head. She was leaving the funeral of the man she had worked with for over a year. His death might be related to the well-being of a little girl and might be associated with the brutal beating of a co-worker.

And she was thinking about boy problems.

Why had he sprung that on her this morning? And why in person? The last time she had been asked out in person was in college. Since graduation, she had met men through online dating apps. Of course, she was batting zero, but that was how things were done now.

Her first thought was that the simplest solution was to tell him that she was interested in him, and then they would start dating. Her second thought was that wasn't the simplest solution. It was the most complicated solution. But it avoided one awkward conversation and probably several workplace silences. Or maybe just postponed them and made them worse. She scratched the word 'simplest' out of the whole internal dialogue. There was nothing simple here.

What would Angie, the headshrinker, think about this line of thought? Could Evelyn's subconscious mind be deliberately throwing all this confusion around as an emotional smokescreen to avoid facing John Toland's death? If so, could the parallels and relationships between the different events surrounding Evelyn's week be fabricated? Could it all be just a coincidence, like the police sergeant had said?

Yes. Yes, it could.

She pulled into the parking lot of the CDC and knew that she had to talk this through with Chris. He was the only person who was as close to it as she was, at least the only one who was still alive.