Part Fifteen

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Rodger drove to work wondering what to expect. He was the last person who saw Billy alive, and Billy was beloved by all who knew him. Even Rodger wasn't immune to his good character. However, not everyone looked at Rodger as a welcome part of the team, although after this long they had learned to hold their tongue and get over it. But now, would they suspect that Rodger had something to do with his death? Rodger's heart gave a mournful pang. Billy didn't deserve death. He belonged to life, embodied it really.

"I had to." Rodger muttered under his breath, hoping that voicing the fact would override the guilt. "I had no choice."

Unfortunately, that didn't silence the other voice, the one that hissed to him that killing Billy had been a horrible mistake. Perhaps he could have talked Billy out of his suspicion. 'Oh, my paint must have spilled' he could have said. Enough persuasion could convince people the oddest lies, as he knew so well. Then he and Billy could have laughed, and he wouldn't be in this mess. But no, he had to pull a fucking gun on the poor bastard. He had to panic and shoot the guy. He had to go to Dawn's afterwards, and ruin everything between them. Now he could never drift in that condemned hope that he and Dawn could stay together, that nothing would rip them apart. Cancer. It was so normal. People died of it all the time. But why her of all people? She was so young. So tender and lovely. Why did she have to fall victim to death? But then again if it wasn't for her cancer she would have never contacted him. She might have even reported him instead. Rodger's thoughts were running him in circles again. Analyzing every moment wasn't going to help anything. Dawn had cancer. Billy was dead because he shot him. He was a murderer. Houston was probably going to finally find that piece of evidence to link him directly to the murders over all these years. Those were facts, and Rodger had to deal with them. He couldn't spend time wishing they were something else, or wondering what would happen if his situation magically changed.

Rodger pulled up to the construction site. This was it. He had no idea how his coworkers would react to Billy's death, and as he knew, it was sometimes-often-anger. At least initially. Rodger walked towards the site, looking over the people working. One of them saw him, and began to walk toward him. Rodger's thinking paused for a moment, though his steps continued, then he wondered what he had to say. Rodger couldn't read his expression from this far away. Hopefully it wasn't an aggressive look. As he drew closer, Rodger could read a somewhat mournful expression. What was his name again? Todd? Ted? Tom? Tyler! That was it.

"Have you heard about Billy?" Tyler asked, his face prepared for whatever response Rodger would give.

Rodger nodded wordlessly.

"The boss is giving us the day off. You know, for psychological reasons."

"I see."

"Are you going to Billy's funeral?"

"When is it?"

"Today."

"I don't know if I should." Was it really proper for someone's murderer to attend their victim's funeral? Was it considered a sign of remorse, or did it seem more like some twisted joke?

"Billy would want you to come."

Rodger wasn't sure if he agreed with that statement. But how else could he respond to that? "Okay." Rodger agreed. "I'll go."

Tyler handed Rodger a slip of paper. "That's the address." He explained. "It starts at one."

Rodger nodded, and Tyler strolled away. Rodger watched, and looked around, somewhat confused. He was unsure what to do. He felt lost somehow. What was he living for? What was he doing here? Rodger looked at his watch. The funeral would be starting in a couple of hours. Luckily he had something decent to change into.

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