65
The next morning dawned sunny, and Gianluca drove them through the countryside, pointing out cows and horses for Leni.
Julia sat in the passenger seat, feeling like a wife again, back with her family, her world order theoretically restored.
She’d slept terribly, and her headache persisted.
Somehow she knew it wasn’t the concussion.
Something was unsettling her, deep within.
They were heading to Alex’s memorial service at the Buckley firehouse, and her heart felt heavy at the memory of him.
She kept seeing him running down the hall in the prison, then feeling the moment that his soul left the earth, far too young.
It would take her time to process his death, and she could only imagine how hard it would be for Courtney.
They entered the Buckley city limits, and she could feel her body tense. She heard Gianluca and Leni chattering, but the sound seemed oddly far away, even remote. She didn’t bother pointing out the sights, such as they were, and Gianluca caught her eye, tacitly understanding.
They drove past the police station, and Julia wondered if the authorities had arrested Glushenko yet. She’d checked her phone but there had been no news, which added to her uneasy feeling. Maybe that would explain the headache.
She straightened in her seat as they approached the firehouse, which was a multistory brick building with three bays for firetrucks with an attached converted rowhome that served as an office.
She had never seen so much activity in town before, or so many people.
Families filled the sidewalks, heading to the firehouse.
Traffic was congested, and parked cars and newsvans lined the street for blocks.
Gianluca braked, looking around. “I should park here. I don’t know if we’ll get any closer. This is quite a crowd.”
“It sure is,” Julia said, touched. She spotted a class of kids dressed in orange-and-white T-shirts, like at Kay’s funeral.
She was seeing everyone whose lives Alex had touched.
She realized something she hadn’t before, that the land was about much more than the environment.
It was about the people whose lives were rooted in the soil, many for generations.
Alex had built and served an entire community who cared about Buckley, and it had turned out in force to honor his memory.
Julia felt tears come to her eyes, feeling his loss. She couldn’t wait until his killers were brought to justice. She’d be first in line to testify, if need be.
It wasn’t over until it was over.
The happy ending would have to wait.