Chapter 14 Where We Begin Again
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHERE WE BEGIN AGAIN
They would remember Sarah’s funeral not for the speeches or the wail of bagpipes, but for the silence as the honor guard assembled.
Colin, Lenny, Daniel, and Sarah’s captain stood shoulder to shoulder in full dress uniform next to Sarah’s casket as officers from every precinct filed past, black mourning bands a slash across their badges.
The sound of the final salute and the hush as the flag was folded lingered longer than any eulogy.
Colin remembered the weight of his uniform, the burn of the tears he refused to shed, the ache in his chest, and the feel of Joshua’s hand on his arm when it was finally over.
It hadn’t brought peace, but it had brought a kind of closure.
In the days that followed, grief and bureaucracy merged into a dizzying blur of sleepless nights, phone calls, and mind-numbing paperwork.
Shannon Nash’s logs had been copied and presented to the investigation’s lead detective, ATF continued to sift through the ruins, city police chased leads, and the news replayed endless footage of their battered front porch, yellow tape snapping in the wind.
Colin and Joshua dealt with the items they were allowed to salvage, and between calls to the insurance company and trips to the dry cleaner, they fought to keep despair at bay.
They had both gone back to work, apologizing to their colleagues for the faint, smoky smell that clung to their clothes.
Colin tried his best to focus, but mid-morning of his first day, he already felt the awkward shift: conversations abruptly halted when he entered a room, case files were angled just out of sight, a meeting he normally would have attended proceeded without him–the conference room door securely closed.
No one said a word, but the message was unmistakable: he would no longer be included in any discussion that touched on the investigation into Sarah’s death.
He understood—legally, ethically—he had to be walled off. But understanding didn’t blunt the sting of it. Being shut out of a room he had once commanded made something in his chest tighten—not wounded pride exactly, but close enough to bruise.
Ten days after he had returned to the CAO, Esther called him into her office. When he arrived, he was surprised to see his husband seated next to Norman Clayton. “What’s going on, boss lady?” he asked, one hand coming to rest on Joshua’s shoulder.
“We got a location early last week.” She arched her eyebrows. “From an anonymous phone tip. A body was there. Clothes matched the security footage from your house cameras. Prints matched. Bomb residue sealed it.”
“Certainly didn’t take him long,” Clayton muttered with a grim smile.
“You think it was Elias?” Joshua asked.
“Oh hell yes, it was Elias!”
Joshua blinked. “He just… handed this over?”
Esther’s mouth tightened. “Let’s just say he knew exactly what kind of evidence we’d need—and he made damned sure we had it.”
Colin studied her. “So, you’re not going after him.”
“We can’t prove anything,” she said. “Not without a confession or something that ties Elias to the kill. An anonymous tip and a corpse certainly won’t do it. And honestly? It’s time to put this whole matter to bed.”
“Wow,” Joshua breathed out.
“Wow, indeed,” Esther said. “He also assured me that from now on, no matter who you prosecute, arrest, investigate, or indict—nothing and no one will ever touch you or Joshua again.”
“Oh, right!” Joshua blurted.
Esther turned to him. “Don’t underestimate this message, Josh. It’s powerful. It’s a demonstration of how much Elias respects your husband’s position—and how seriously he takes what happened here. He gave his word, and some underling broke it. For Elias? That is fucking deadly.”
“As evidenced by what happened to the bomber,” Norm commented. “Which sends out a huge message to anyone else thinking to bother the two of you.”
“Also sends a pretty clear message to baby-brother Lexi,” Colin muttered.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t give a plugged nickel for his life now,” Norm commented. “He’ll die in Red Onion, probably before the weekend.”
Colin snorted out a laugh. “Little though I wish to find myself in agreement with Elias Moreno, in this one instance…” He shrugged. “Fuck Lexi. If he didn’t outright arrange for what happened to us—and to Sarah—you can bet he at least encouraged it.”
“For what it’s worth—which is probably nothing—Elias also offered to compensate Sarah’s family.”
Colin shook his head. “He thinks his damned money can buy anything.” He turned away, voice low and bitter. “But it can’t buy back Sarah’s life.”
His words hung in the air. No one spoke. Even the office noise surrounding them seemed to quiet.
“No,” Esther murmured at last. “It can’t.”
“So, what does this mean for us?” Joshua asked, his hand reaching to grasp Colin’s wrist.
Esther folded her hands. “It means the investigation into Sarah Mitchell’s homicide is closed. You can go home, or at least your possessions are yours again. The house will be released tomorrow. After that, you’re free to start rebuilding—restoring your life.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Colin fumbled for Joshua’s hand, feeling the words settle into the ache at the center of his chest—relief, sorrow, and something like a glimmer of anticipation all tangled together.
“Well, we’d better call David,” Joshua murmured with a soft smile. He leaned close and pressed a kiss to Colin’s cheek. “He’s been foaming at the mouth for over a week to introduce us to his favorite contractor.”
The following morning, they stood at the edge of their yard watching as city police, ATF agents, fire marshals, and other law enforcement agencies packed up their equipment, preparing to leave.
The insurance inspectors had finished their quiet sweep and disappeared, leaving behind a list of next steps neither of them had the heart to read.
David appeared around the side of the house and ambled toward them.
By his side was a tall man with weathered hands and the lined face of someone who’d been building things outdoors since he was strong enough to swing a hammer.
Broad-shouldered, with a thick neck and a quiet intensity, he walked with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
As they approached the tape, one of the officers moved to intercept him. David stopped and stared. The officer hesitated, then tore the tape off and stepped aside.
“Told them your contractor had to see what he’s working with.”
“It’s not their jurisdiction anymore,” Colin told him. “It’s ours.”
David had spoken to them about Graham Kingsley over dinner.
“He doesn’t rush a job, and he doesn’t cut corners. He’s the guy people call when something’s gone horribly wrong—when a house needs saving or a family’s trying to rebuild more than just drywall. When the building means something… that’s the kind of job he looks for.”
He approached them now, at David’s side, an easy smile softening the lines of his face.
“Colin? Josh? This is Graham Kingsley. He’s done important work for me in the past. I wanted him to see your home before anyone else because where other contractors might shrug and give up, this man rubs his hands together and says, ‘Let’s get to work’.”
Kingsley stood silently observing them both.
They looked terrible, he thought—the smell of smoke still clinging to their clothes, eyes haunted, filled with the pain of everything they’d lost. Yet there was something in the way they leaned into each other.
Something in the way they touched. Not broken.
Maybe knocked sideways a bit, but still standing.
He’d seen people lose homes before—watched marriages fall apart before the drywall even cooled. But these two? They were still holding on. Built of something fire couldn’t burn.
He turned to Joshua, who was clinging to Colin’s arm and biting his lip to hold back tears as he stared at the ruins of his home.
“Relax, son. We can save it.”
Colin took a half step back, clearly stunned. “Save it! You’re kidding, right?”
Kingsley nodded and gestured toward the house. “Looks like hell right now, but looks don’t matter. Foundation matters. And your foundation is strong.” He shrugged. “The rest? Cosmetic. Expensive as all get-out. But totally cosmetic.”
“Oh my god, Colin!” Joshua wept, clutching him close. “Oh my god!”
Colin swiped at his own tears, then let out a shaky laugh. “Sounds a little like us, doesn’t it?” he whispered. “We look like shit, but our foundation’s strong.” He released Joshua, then pressed his fingers to his eyes until the burn faded.
“Not saying it’ll be easy,” Kingsley said, resting a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “And it sure as hell won’t be quick. We’re talking weeks of work, possibly months, before she’s even livable. I’ll know more once I’m allowed in to inspect.”
He looked from one of them to the other. “You have a place to stay?”
“They’re with me,” David said before either of them could answer. He turned to Graham. “And Graham? I get the bill.”
“No, David!” Colin blurted out. “That’s just not going to happen.”
“David, we can’t take your money for this,” Joshua added quickly.
David held up his hands, chuckling. “Would you two relax? I get it. You can pay me back once your insurance company cuts you a check; that’s fine. But if Graham can get all his primary funding up front, this whole thing moves a hell of a lot faster.”
Kingsley nodded toward David. “He’s right. Biggest holdup in jobs like this is waiting on money for materials. The more I can bulk buy right now, the quicker I get you back sleeping in your own home.”
David gave Colin’s shoulder a friendly shake. “Relax. We’ll figure it out. My only goal right now is to get Graham started ASAP.”
Colin cast a skeptical glance at Joshua, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was staring toward their house… their home. And the look of wistful longing on his face nearly took Colin’s knees out from under him.