The Reckoning - BLACKBIRD book 3

17. reminiscence

**picture: Boston cemetery

It was a gray Saturday afternoon, and somehow it felt right that there wasn't a bright blue sky and a happy sun shining down on them. Gillian and Connor reached her mother's grave and lingered there for a while, without a word. Until her phone buzzed and she flashed a mild smile at Banks' text, "You coming or what."

"C'mon, son, they're waiting for us," she said, her voice lower than usual.

"They?" asked Connor, offering her his arm.

She wrapped her arm around his and led him to another sector of the cemetery, were police officers were buried. "Bob and a few more from the old days."

"You were close to this guy?"

"Yeah. Andrew and Bob were good friends when I started working with Bob, so I ended up befriending Andrew too. What happened to him was a low blow for all of us."

"Feel like telling me?"

"Sure, but help me keep it short, or we'll never meet them." Connor nodded, smiling, and Gillian narrowed her eyes to gather her memories. "There was this serial killer, the Libra. He first showed up in Jacksonville, Florida, back in 2000. Over the years he appeared again in Charleston, South Carolina, in 2002, and then in New York, in 2004. In 2006 he landed here. He was a total piece of work. A—

"Short, you said. You can tell me all about his profile later."

"That a boy. The Libra always killed three women and vanished. He'd completely disappear for two years to show up at the next city, always north along the East Coast."

"2006, Boston. This guy whose grave we're visiting."

Gillian nodded as they strolled in no hurry down the quiet lanes. "So the Libra comes to town, and we find out only when his first victim is discovered, and his timing is like a stab in our back. The Mayor's nephew is killed at the same time, a street assault gone wrong, so the Commissioner picks Bob and I to find his killers. And not three days later we come to know the Libra is here. We request to be assigned to the case right away, but the Mayor wants us on his case and the Commissioner refuses to reassign us. He appoints Andrew as primary on the Libra case. So we try to hurry to find the boy's killers, to close the case and join Andrew. By now, at his fourth spree, we know we're against the clock, 'cause he always takes his three victims in ten days, two weeks tops, and disappears."

She let out a frustrated sigh. Connor raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to go on. She grimaced.

"So Bob and I identify the killers and start to track them down by the time the Libra kills his second victim, and we locate them exactly ten days after the Libra's first murder in town. It's a hell of a night—rain, wind, the whole circus. Bob and I lead the procedure to catch these scumbags. At the same time, across town, there's a 911 call. Somebody is hearing the woman next door scream. Andrew is on his way home from the precinct when he gets the alert. He's not a mile away from the calling address. So he requests backup and floors it. And he floors it so much that he gets there the first. The house belongs to a woman that matches the Libra's type, and there's no more screaming from the inside. He knows the Libra may be still in there, and if he misses this chance, the son of a bitch will disappear again because it's his third victim. So he just goes in."

"Enough suspense, Mom!"

"Okay, okay. Well, it was the Libra. Andrew finds him in the woman's bedroom and the Libra attacks him. When the backup arrive, they find Andrew and the woman dead."

"And you guys were stuck arresting those other killers."

Gillian looked down. "Yep."

It had really been a hell of a night. Some would say death was in the air. During their procedure, the killers had shot Bank in the chest. He was hardly alive when they took him to the hospital, and it was a true miracle he made it through. So Gillian got word of what had happened to Andrew Lloyd hours after it was all over. But she didn't want to talk about that, relive the fear of losing her friend and partner, those hideous hours waiting outside the OR. And how the huge relief of knowing Banks would make it had been swept away by the news about Andrew's death.

Connor's voice startled her back from her broody thoughts.

"And the Libra?"

She shrugged. "In the wind."

"You gotta be kidding! Did they ever catch him?"

Gillian looked up ahead. Banks and a few more men stood before a gravestone.

"Mom...?"

She sighed. "Yes, they caught him. Two years later, in DC."

Banks heard her and turned to smile at her, his hand already stretched out to give her a beer. Like every year. A toast at Andrew Lloyd's grave. A toast to the fallen friend. Not on the anniversary of his death, but on his birthday.

"Hey, I didn't know I had to bring the baby bottle," Banks said, shaking Connor's hand.

"Then just give me a beer," the boy replied.

"Over my dead body," said Gillian.

"Over hundreds of dead bodies," corrected Connor.

Banks scoffed. "That's your mom's pitch black humor! You're already infected! Here, I was kidding."

"Water? Really? Don't you have a soda at least?"

"Sugar is not good for your health, kiddo."

"'Cause get-togethers at the cemetery are."

The other men came closer to greet them. Gillian shook their hands, glad to see them again. She gave them Russell's regards. He'd wanted to join them, since he'd been close to Andrew too. But under Bon Jovi's motto I'll sleep when I'm dead, he was already on his way to DC with Cassidy.

"Hey, Mom, don't forget we have a story to finish."

She nodded, forcing a smile. Then she faced Lloyd's grave and raised her beer like the others. She had nothing to finish. There was no way she would tell Connor the end of that story. Because when the Libra had surfaced in DC, back in 2008, he was chased down and killed on the spot, best vigilante way. By the only man in the whole country able to identify him after five sprees over eight years in different states.

One Declan Brockner.

After the Libra murdered his wife.