EPILOGUE
The Altar of Grace
November 13-14
Cry From The Grave
Chapter 49
No amount of frustration could tamper the enthusiasm Ballack felt from closing out the St. Matthew's Grove case. Isabel Andrews accosted him promptly after the funeral was over, posing more questions than Ballack had the patience to answer. Recognizing her indignation at being used as the ruse to snare Beverly Overton, he finally told her they would provide more detail after they got a proper statement from Beverly and her lawyer. More than anything, he wanted to go home and sleep for two days straight. Adrenaline had kept him going and he could sense the torque rapidly leaving his body. But he knew he had a promise to keep. He first texted John Rearden about the arrest, seconds before a KSDK news van slid to a halt in front of the church.
"No interviews," he snapped, rolling toward the Sprinter, content to allow Crabolli and Krieger handle the press. But they were not to be denied, and it was another ten minutes before they could extract themselves. He preferred Rearden's professionalism instead.
"Detective Ballack?" a voice sounded behind him. He turned to face Reverend Fisher. "Sorry to keep you. I do want to thank you--and you also, Detective Vaughan--for your handling of this. Dean was a friend, and even though this doesn't bring him back..." His eyes misted.
"It's what we're designed for, Reverend Fisher," he replied.
"I hope the service wasn't spoiled on our account," said Tori.
Fisher shook his head. "On the contrary, I thank you for being as silent and unobtrusive as possible. Your justice was clear enough to catch the guilty yet quiet enough to honor Dean's memory."
"Justice isn't in the bank yet, sir," reminded Ballack. "That's what the county prosecutor is for. But we'll keep you posted."
"He looks like he knows the hospice will crumble for good," said Tori as they moved toward the van.
"It's been a pillar of destruction the last few days," replied Ballack. "And the rot was there for a long time before. At least now, the patients--wherever they are--might feel a bit safer."
Just as they pulled away from the scene, Rearden called him.
"I'm on my way to the station," he said. "Webster?"
"Yes," said Ballack, "and you can go by the church and snoop around as well, once things calm down. Let Krieger know I've promised you first interview with him."
"I'm on my way."
"Are you going to leave your back door unlocked?"
"No, but there's an empty planting box there, covered by plywood, in case you need to deliver something."
"Which is what we're doing."
"You keep promises. I like that in any profession."
"Just drink it slowly, John. I don't have the salary to perpetually finance your assistance."
Ballack was taking the next day off, having slept in until nine o'clock. Rhoda graciously stayed past her staggered shift by fifteen minutes and gave him a shower in his accessible bath. His father left several made-from-scratch biscuits on a cookie sheet next to the kitchen stove, with the squeeze jar of honey nearby. Rhoda also got him a hard-boiled egg and a root beer out of the refrigerator. Ballack reasoned he was close enough to lunch to justify the soft drink choice. Using a knife as a wedge, he cracked it open and took a long gulp.
The doorbell rang and his mother checked the window before answering.
"It's Scotty," she announced.
Ballack rolled into the front hall and took one look at Bosco's ashen face as the lieutenant entered the house.
"Back deck?" he said, not even greeting Marie.
Ballack nodded. "Let me get my chow if you don't mind carrying the drink. Want one yourself?"
Scotty graciously declined the offer and less than a minute later, they were sitting outside enjoying a rippling breeze and an occasional break of sunshine.
"Well, congratulations," said Bosco after they got past the obligatory male small talk. "Stu called me last night and told me everything. I swear you should donate your mind to science. Brilliant." He spoke with pride, but the huskiness in his emotion revealed pain rather than joy.
"Thanks, Scotty. But don't forget it takes a great man to recognize talent. I couldn't have had this opportunity if it wasn't for you sticking your neck out in the first place."
"What's the latest on the perp?"
"She confessed everything to us when we made the arrest, but of course, once her lawyer showed up at the station, Krieger said she withdrew everything. There's a considerable legal battle ahead, but isn't that the risk we take as detectives? We solve the puzzle and make the arrest. We don't prosecute the accused. Our little gamble."
"Still...success. You earned it, is all I can say."
"Seriously, Scotty, why did you come over today?" Ballack asked as the breeze trebled in speed and the air dropped in temperature. He was glad he was dressed in his royal blue windpants with the full-length in-seam snaps with his Duke University turtleneck pullover.
"You're averse to a chat?"
"No, but when have you ever dropped by in the middle of the day? Either you have absolutely nothing to do, or St. Charles County is all sweetness and light and kum-ba-yah utopia, or something has just detonated in your personal life. Given how you looked when you walked in, I'd say we are looking behind door number three."
"Debra and I are getting divorced."
"And there it is."
"That's a hell of a reaction. What gives?"
"Come on, Boss. I have ears and eyes. You can't tell me you were about to keep this covertly to your death. Last April when I called you from DaySpring? That wasn't Debra's voice all giggly drunk in the background, and I dare say that splash of water sure wasn't you draining potatoes in the sink."
"It was the hot tub," Bosco confessed.
"And why are you telling me?"
"Just something I needed to say, a kernel of honesty between fellow detectives. I'm headed down to Defiance to meet my girlfriend and then scope out a spot for lunch. Since I happened to be coming this direction, I thought I'd stop in."
"Glad you did. That's a long way out to meet your woman. Does she live down there?"
"She works in Washington, lives in Augusta. We make do."
"Why do I get the sense you're telling me this for more than male bonding?"
Bosco swallowed. "Because it's a professional issue, too. I've been letting things slide, and the negotiations for the divorce might get ugly. When I spoke to Stu last night, he said I could be working through my issues, or I could be first up for some potentially front-and-center SID matters. But not both. He's right, of course. I can't be dabbling in two worlds. As a result, I'm going inactive from the SID for now and will focus solely out here until all this blows over. Once that gets done, I'm back with the SID."
Ballack chewed the final bite of his first biscuit. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm sorry about all this, and I was a little flippant when you mentioned it just now about you and Debra. I wasn't trying to give the impression this is all on you."
"No sweat. No offense taken. I'd better get going because Lauren's going to get there before me and I can't delay. I took the day off, although you have the look of someone who's earned his. I'll see myself out down the steps here. Thanks for listening. And I know you don't pray, but could you ask your parents to do so?"
Ballack shook his hand. "You know I'll ask them."
"Thanks, Cameron."
A lump formed in Ballack's throat, weighted with sorrow for his mentor and friend. He held his grip with Bosco. "You're still the best, sir. I am what I am because of you."
Smiling, Scotty Bosco nodded his thanks before descending the stairs.
Ballack was taking the next day off, having slept in until nine o'clock. Rhoda graciously stayed past her staggered shift by fifteen minutes and gave him a shower in his accessible bath. His father left several made-from-scratch biscuits on a cookie sheet next to the kitchen stove, with the squeeze jar of honey nearby. Rhoda also got him a hard-boiled egg and a root beer out of the refrigerator. Ballack reasoned he was close enough to lunch to justify the soft drink choice. Using a knife as a wedge, he cracked it open and took a long gulp.
The doorbell rang and his mother checked the window before answering.
"It's Scotty," she announced.
Ballack rolled into the front hall and took one look at Bosco's ashen face as the lieutenant entered the house.
"Back deck?" he said, not even greeting Marie.
Ballack nodded. "Let me get my chow if you don't mind carrying the drink. Want one yourself?"
Scotty graciously declined the offer and less than a minute later, they were sitting outside enjoying a rippling breeze and an occasional break of sunshine.
"Well, congratulations," said Bosco after they got past the obligatory male small talk. "Stu called me last night and told me everything. I swear you should donate your mind to science. Brilliant." He spoke with pride, but the huskiness in his emotion revealed pain rather than joy.
"Thanks, Scotty. But don't forget it takes a great man to recognize talent. I couldn't have had this opportunity if it wasn't for you sticking your neck out in the first place."
"What's the latest on the perp?"
"She confessed everything to us when we made the arrest, but of course, once her lawyer showed up at the station, Krieger said she withdrew everything. There's a considerable legal battle ahead, but isn't that the risk we take as detectives? We solve the puzzle and make the arrest. We don't prosecute the accused. Our little gamble."
"Still...success. You earned it, is all I can say."
"Seriously, Scotty, why did you come over today?" Ballack asked as the breeze trebled in speed and the air dropped in temperature. He was glad he was dressed in his royal blue windpants with the full-length in-seam snaps with his Duke University turtleneck pullover.
"You're averse to a chat?"
"No, but when have you ever dropped by in the middle of the day? Either you have absolutely nothing to do, or St. Charles County is all sweetness and light and kum-ba-yah utopia, or something has just detonated in your personal life. Given how you looked when you walked in, I'd say we are looking behind door number three."
"Debra and I are getting divorced."
"And there it is."
"That's a hell of a reaction. What gives?"
"Come on, Boss. I have ears and eyes. You can't tell me you were about to keep this covertly to your death. Last April when I called you from DaySpring? That wasn't Debra's voice all giggly drunk in the background, and I dare say that splash of water sure wasn't you draining potatoes in the sink."
"It was the hot tub," Bosco confessed.
"And why are you telling me?"
"Just something I needed to say, a kernel of honesty between fellow detectives. I'm headed down to Defiance to meet my girlfriend and then scope out a spot for lunch. Since I happened to be coming this direction, I thought I'd stop in."
"Glad you did. That's a long way out to meet your woman. Does she live down there?"
"She works in Washington, lives in Augusta. We make do."
"Why do I get the sense you're telling me this for more than male bonding?"
Bosco swallowed. "Because it's a professional issue, too. I've been letting things slide, and the negotiations for the divorce might get ugly. When I spoke to Stu last night, he said I could be working through my issues, or I could be first up for some potentially front-and-center SID matters. But not both. He's right, of course. I can't be dabbling in two worlds. As a result, I'm going inactive from the SID for now and will focus solely out here until all this blows over. Once that gets done, I'm back with the SID."
Ballack chewed the final bite of his first biscuit. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm sorry about all this, and I was a little flippant when you mentioned it just now about you and Debra. I wasn't trying to give the impression this is all on you."
"No sweat. No offense taken. I'd better get going because Lauren's going to get there before me and I can't delay. I took the day off, although you have the look of someone who's earned his. I'll see myself out down the steps here. Thanks for listening. And I know you don't pray, but could you ask your parents to do so?"
Ballack shook his hand. "You know I'll ask them."
"Thanks, Cameron."
A lump formed in Ballack's throat, weighted with sorrow for his mentor and friend. He held his grip with Bosco. "You're still the best, sir. I am what I am because of you."
Smiling, Scotty Bosco nodded his thanks before descending the stairs.
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