Please read and enjoy. I promise it will really pick up soon.

Chapter 8

The days following the death of Elaina drug on endlessly; Dennis Booker kept to himself locked in a world of quiet anguish. He thought about the day he had come him to finder her cooking in the kitchen. He could feel her touch, he could smell her perfume. He wanted to have it all again. He was asked to take a week off from work after he reported to Jump Street Chapel early three day after.

“Dennis Booker… what are you doing here?” Adam Fuller had questioned.

“I have work…” Booker responded.

“No, Dennis, you are on leave as of the day before yesterday. You need to stay out of here until next week at the earliest.”

“Coach… I…” Booker protested

“Dennis… you have a funeral to prepare for and a doctor to see.”

“Doctor?”

“Yeah, department policy, you lost your wife under tragic circumstances. You’re going to see the department shrink.”

“Cap… I don’t need…” Dennis pleaded with his smoky eyes, pain flickering like hot coals.

“Booker… yes, you do need to talk to someone. Look at yourself, did you even bother to sleep last night. You’re in the same clothes you had on yesterday and you have an appointment at three today.”

“But…”

“Dennis, if you don’t show up for that appointment you will be suspended indefinably.” Fuller demanded.

Booker let out a deep sigh as he looked down at his feet. He felt complete defeat. In truth he hadn’t gone home since the night his life had blown up in his face.

--

He had surrendered a copy of his apartment key to Detective Andrews after trying to return with her to check their apartment. Hanson had walked in the apartment to check it out when he could not bring himself to even cross the threshold. Judy had waited with him outside the door, her arms around him in a warm embrace.

“Everything looks ok.” Hanson then walked out of the apartment and stopped in front of Dennis Booker making eye contact with the devastated man. Booker’s eyes were bloodshot and he looked tired. Hanson felt uncomfortable as the eye contact Booker did make with him was emotionless. He was almost vacant with his stare.

“What am I going to do without her Tommy?” A single tear slipped down his cheek as he searched for yet another answer that would not come.

“Why don’t we see about getting you some clothes and you come and stay with me or Penhall?” Hanson suggested.

“Can’t… I have to go see mom… I have to tell her...” His voice trailed off as his gaze settled on the picture on the coffee table. Her smile, radiating… her red dress they were surrounded by the rest of his fellow officers. His mother had taken the picture the day he had proposed to Elaina. A taunting reminder of the life… lives he had ruined.

“Let me drive you.” Hanson suggested.

“Tommy… I… OK.” Dennis let go of his fight and walked out the door with Hanson and Hoffs; the three left to let Booker’s mother know about the tragic events of the day.

He had spent the evenings wondering the streets after his mom was certain he was in bed. He had walked to the bank and peered in the glass at the desk she would have occupied the next day. Her name still on the plate across from her high back leather chair as if waiting for her next return. But there would be no returns. She was gone. He walked to the alley where her body had been found tortured, beaten, ravaged and broken. The corner of Fifth and Broad, the alleyway was now clear of nearly all of the yellow “POLICELINE” tape. A single stray piece blew in the cool night air. He had walked to the end of the alley looking for anything. A clue, but he knew that there was nothing. The crime lab had combed the alley multiple times searching for the missing evidence. There had to be something, anything that would point to a possible suspect or credible witness. He wanted to find her rings; the bastards had stolen her engagement ring and wedding band.

--

It had been just over one week since the death of Elaina Booker. The body had been released from the morgue for burial. Joyce Booker had taken over control of the funeral arrangements when it had become clear Dennis couldn’t do it. He would sit at her side and agree on whatever she would ask. He was shutting down emotionally. His eyes were glazed over as he thought to himself. What if I hadn’t married her? Would she have died? Why did she have to go? What had she done wrong?

“And what will we be burring the body in… do you have something in mind?” The undertaker had asked. He looked up over the rims of his thick black horn-rimmed reading glasses.

“White.” Dennis responded. “I want her to wear white.” He then pulled his gold wedding band off of his finger and handed it to the undertaker who looked at it and then at Booker. “Put this on her, hers was… stolen…” After saying what he did he stood and left the room he proceeded outside to light up a cigarette. The wind was cool and crisp. He couldn’t stop thinking about Elaina. The season of summer was about to give up into fall. She had always loved to walk through the woods, listening to the leaves crunching beneath her feet. In front of him he watched a leaf dangling from a tree slowly fall to the soft green grass below. The next day was going to be longest of his life.

--

“Today we commend the body of our dearly departed Elaina Cheyenne Booker to the ground… ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” The words were cold. The preacher had tried to console Dennis, but he was untouchable. His emotions had run dry. His mother stood behind him her hand warm on his left shoulder. Occasionally he could hear a sniffle from her. Judy Hoffs had tried to put on her strong game face on only to fall apart once she walked into the funeral home. Now at the graveside Hanson, Penhall and Ioki struggled to help hold her together. Fuller stood at Joyce Booker’s side one arm around her shoulder and the other on Dennis Booker’s right shoulder. The day was cold and gray. The sun was hidden behind the clouds almost as if it too was in morning for his wife.

“This concludes the graveside services for Elaina Booker please join the family at their home and trust that we will take care of everything here. You are welcome to remain as long as you like.” The words were so wrong. Why are they leaving, they can’t be leaving. They can’t put her in the ground. Dennis stood up and walked towards the oak box containing the earthly remains of his wife. He walked to the box his hand outstretched shaking. He could feel his knees weakening. He leaned over the casket tears falling leaking across the finished ornate sides. He kissed the surface of the wood between silent sobs sliding his fingers across the top. The roses atop of the large box shook with the quaking of each ragged breath, it was then he felt a gentle hand on his lower back.

Booker stood up and turned looking eye to eye with an auburn haired fair skinned Angela Miller. The officer took one look at the woman and melted into her motherly arms. The two singing into the grass as Dennis Booker’s legs finally gave out.

“Oh GOD Ang… she… my baby… please… why…” his words were choked by the tormented sobs. Angie Miller sat on the ground with Dennis Booker in her arms sobbing looking up at her husband Dean. Adam Fuller stood next to Dean a sullen look on his normally cheerful face. Tom Hanson, Doug Penhall, Judy Hoffs and Harry Ioki watched as for the second time Dennis Booker lost control of his emotions.

Please drop me a line and let me know that you are reading and what you think. I know it is a bit on the slow side right now, but trust me, the action is going to start picking up very soon! Thanks again for my faithful loyal readers and reviewers... tewksgirl, ghostwriter and FeedYourHead77, you really have kept me going this whole time. It helps to know that you enjoy the story. takecare and have a great day.