Fatal Reckoning Page 7

  “Crowd control?” Celia asked.

  “In light of the outpouring we’ve received at headquarters,” Joe said, “we believe the crowds will be massive. We’re expecting upward of ten thousand officers to attend from departments all over the country.”

  “Wow.” Tracy blinked back tears. “That’s amazing.”

  “At the conclusion of the service, a police escort will take him to his final resting place at the Prospect Hill Cemetery,” Officer Charles said. “An invitation-only reception for close friends, family and MPD colleagues will be hosted by the DC Police Union in the ballroom of the Hay-Adams, which has donated the space to us.”

  Sam glanced at Nick, who offered a small smile. The last time they were in the ballroom of the Hay-Adams had been on their wedding day.

  “We’ll need a guest list for the reception as soon as possible,” Officer Charles concluded.

  “We’ll need to vet that list,” Brant said.

  “I’ll get it to you as soon as I have it.” Officer Charles looked to Celia. “With your permission, the plans will be made public in a press release that’s already been prepared.”

  “You’ve done a wonderful job organizing everything.” Celia seemed overwhelmed by the magnitude.

  “That’s my job, ma’am, and I’m happy to help. If there’s anything you’d like to change, you need only to let me know.”

  “I wouldn’t change a thing.” Celia glanced at Sam. “Does it meet with your approval?”

  “Absolutely.” Sam was relieved to be consulted by her stepmother. “Go ahead and issue the release.”

  Officer Charles made a note on one of the many pages on the table. “The funeral service itself will be planned by the family.”

  “The pastor is coming to meet with us at two,” Tracy said.

  “President and Mrs. Nelson would like to attend the service,” Lilia said, “but only if Vice President and Mrs. Cappuano would welcome their presence and only if they can do so without causing any sort of disruption.”

  The crimes of the Nelsons’ son still hung heavily over the relationship between the first and second couples. Sam glanced at Nick to gauge his reaction.

  “Completely up to you,” he said.

  “I have no objection if no one else does,” Sam said, deferring to Celia.

  “Your dad would be astounded and honored to have the president and first lady at his funeral,” Celia said.

  “I’ll let them know,” Lilia said.

  “If I can assist in any way,” Officer Charles said, handing business cards to each of them, “I am at your service. And again, please accept my deepest condolences on the loss of an extraordinary man.”

  Celia sniffled and dabbed at raw, red eyes with a tissue. “Thank you so much for everything.”

  “It is the very least we can do in light of his ultimate sacrifice.” She glanced at the chief, who nodded. “I’ll be on my way, but please call if you need anything.”

  When she stood, Sam stepped forward to shake her hand. “Thank you for a job very well done, Officer.”

  She shook Sam’s hand and then Nick’s. “It’s an honor, Lieutenant, Mr. Vice President.”

  When she had departed, Celia said, “She’s an impressive young woman.”

  “Indeed, she is,” Joe said. “I have very high hopes for her career in the department.”

  Gonzo came rushing into the kitchen and walked right up to Sam to hug her. “I’m so, so sorry. I got here as fast as I could after I heard the news. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.” She smiled at her friend and colleague, who looked more like himself than he had since before his partner’s tragic murder. “Did you bust out?”

  “Just about.”

  “Means a lot that you’re here.”

  “I couldn’t imagine not being here.”

  At the table, Joe put an arm around Celia. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  “I can’t think of anything. Skip would be so very pleased with the show of support from the department.”

  “He was one of us. He will always be one of us.”

  “That meant everything to him.”

  “We’ll give him a send-off fit for a king,” Joe said, his voice gruff and filled with emotion. “And we’ll remember him always.”

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT two days, Sam, Nick, Scotty and the rest of the family went through the steps of public mourning, including the candlelight vigil attended by thousands outside HQ and the hours of greeting strangers and friends alike who came to pay their respects to Skip at City Hall. The outpouring of sympathy, respect and adoration for Skip and his family was so great as to be completely overwhelming.

  Sam’s heart swelled with emotion at the pageantry of the MPD motorcycles that led each procession with sirens blaring and blue lights flashing. In dress uniforms of every shade of blue, thousands of law enforcement officers and honor guards from across the country—led by Chief Farnsworth and her colleagues from the MPD—marched through the city, accompanying Skip to his funeral. Along the route, the streets were lined with citizens ten-deep waving flags and applauding as the hearse went by.

  Again because of Scotty and her desire to remain close to him throughout the proceedings, Sam rode with her family in the Secret Service vehicle that followed the hearse rather than marching with her MPD colleagues. In a gesture of goodwill and generosity to the family of a fellow law enforcement officer, the Secret Service provided a motorcade for the entire extended family.

  Sam took it all in with a sense of pride and a surreal feeling of loss that had only begun to permeate the numbness. But it was the bagpipes outside church that broke her composure with their distinctive wail of mourning. That sound... It brought back a lifetime of memories: police events, parades and sadder times, such as Arnold’s funeral. The wound of his loss was still raw as she fought to contend with this latest blow. Aware that the eyes of the city, the country and the world were on her, Sam battled her way through the emotions, determined to do her grieving in private.

  Her squad—Cruz, Gonzales, McBride, Green, Dominguez and Carlucci—each of them in full dress uniform, white gloves and badges shrouded by black bands of mourning, served as personal escorts to the Holland family. Sam was also in uniform in honor of her father. The last time she’d worn her uniform had been for Arnold’s funeral.

  On this day, she suspended all her usual rules against public displays of affection while in uniform and was thankful for the arm Nick kept firmly around her shoulders as they walked into the church. Celia was escorted by Scotty. Tracy, Mike, Angela, Spencer and their families followed with Sam and Nick bringing up the rear of the family procession. As each guest came into the church, they received a printed program from Tracy’s children Abby and Ethan. On the cover of the program was one of Sam’s favorite photos of Skip smiling in his deputy chief’s uniform. He’d been so damned proud of that last promotion.

  Halfway up the long aisle, Celia stopped to embrace Sam’s mother, Brenda.

  Sam watched as the two women who’d loved Skip Holland exchanged a few words and dabbed at tears before Celia continued to the front of the church. As she went by her mother, Sam reached out a hand to her.

  Brenda squeezed Sam’s hand. “Love you.”

  The church was completely packed, with overflow crowds outside, who would listen to the service on speakers. At the request of the family, the service would not be televised, even though the MPD and White House had received numerous requests from the media wanting to broadcast it.

  After the family was seated in the front rows, Sam’s squad rolled Skip’s casket down the center aisle, followed by Chief Farnsworth, Deputy Chief Conklin, Captain Malone and a cadre of retired officers who had served with Skip, each of them in dress uniform.

  The Reverend Canon William Swain, a childhood friend of Skip’s
, presided over the service along with an archbishop and another clergy member. Her father hadn’t been particularly religious, but he’d maintained a close friendship with Reverend Swain, who’d been a frequent visitor during the last few difficult years.

  The reverend began with a prayer of thanksgiving for Skip’s life and his service to the city he loved. “Skip Holland was of the District, for the District. Having lived in the Capitol Hill neighborhood his entire life, from Brent Elementary School to the highest ranks of the Metropolitan Police Department, this city was his home. And we will lay him to rest today in the neighborhood where he lived a life of honor, service, family, faith and community.”

  Sam’s eldest niece, Brooke, gave the first reading, Freddie did the second reading, Ethan and Jack presented the Offertory gifts and Joe Farnsworth gave the first of three eulogies.

  “Part of me still can’t believe this has really happened.” Joe propped his arms on the lectern as if he needed the support of the wooden structure. “Even as he lived on borrowed time for four long years, Skip rose above the daily challenges to continue providing love, friendship, wisdom, humor, grace and guidance to those of us who’d relied on him for those things long before his injury.

  “Only a giant like Skip could’ve continued to be such a huge presence in our lives with only half his face and one finger to work with. In the last few days, I’ve found myself wanting to turn to him for advice about how to handle the loss of my closest friend, my brother in arms, my moral center and my true north. Since I can’t do that, I’ve taken comfort in asking myself ‘What would Skip do?’ By answering that question, I have found my way through the difficult hours and days since we lost him. As we go forward without his daily presence in our lives, we should regularly ask ourselves what Skip would do. If we follow his example, we’ll do the right thing, the honorable thing, the noble thing.”

  When Scotty sniffled, Nick raised his arm and put it around his son.

  “I will remember his humor, the eyebrow that conveyed so much with only the subtlest of lifts, the parties... The epic parties. No one could throw a party like Skip Holland. I’ll never forget the time Patrol responded to a report of a wild party on Ninth Street only to realize their deputy chief was the host and their chief was a guest.” Laughter rippled through the church. “I’ll remember the dancing...”

  Those who’d known him before his injury lost it laughing. Skip had been a horrible dancer, and everyone knew it except him.

  “The enthusiasm with which he did everything was a hallmark of his remarkable life and distinguished career. Celia, Tracy, Mike, Angela, Spencer, Sam, Nick, Brooke, Abby, Ethan, Jack, Ella and Scotty... You were his heart and his soul. His love for you was the most important thing in his life, his pride in his family boundless. I was never with him that he didn’t tell me something about one of you that made him glow with happiness. I honestly believe he survived an injury that should’ve killed him because he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to all of you. He wanted to be here to marry his love, Celia, and to meet Nick, Scotty and Ella. His work here wasn’t finished yet, but it is now, and he can go to his final reward knowing his three beloved girls and precious grandchildren will be well cared for by sons-in-law he deeply loved and respected. Marti and I hope you will take comfort, each of you, in knowing you were well and truly loved by the greatest man I’ve ever known.”

  As he came down from the altar, Joe stopped to hug and kiss Celia, Tracy, Angela and Sam.

  “And now,” Reverend Swain said, “we’ll hear from Skip’s grandson, Scott Cappuano.”

  Wearing the blue blazer, light blue dress shirt, khaki pants and red-and-blue-striped tie that Scotty referred to as his “work clothes,” he made his way to the altar and placed a piece of paper on the lectern before adjusting the microphone to his height. He looked so grown-up and composed that Sam’s heart swelled to overflowing with love for him.

  Nick gave her hand a squeeze.

  She held on tight to him, hoping she could get through this without losing it. They’d asked the other grandchildren if any of them wanted to speak, but they’d demurred, agreeing to allow Scotty to speak for all of them.

  “I was five years old when my first grandpa died. I don’t remember much about him, except for the smell of cigars and that he loved baseball. I’ve only had my grandpa Skip in my life for a little over a year, but I’m really thankful that I’m older now and will remember every minute I ever spent with him. When I first came to live with my mom and dad, my grandpa Skip made me feel like I was his real grandson, which always meant a lot to me.

  “He wanted to hear anything I had to tell him, and we had long conversations about politics and why none of Washington’s sports teams could seem to win a championship until the Caps finally did it this year. I talked to him about kids at school, and if he were here right now, he could tell you the names of the bullies, because he remembered the details. ‘Boyo,’ he would say, ‘the devil is in the details, especially when it comes to police work.’

  “He said I should always take the high road and never stoop to the level of the bullies. He had no patience for mean people or powerful people who did what they wanted because they could. Whenever I was annoyed by the constant presence of Secret Service agents, he would remind me that they feed their families by providing safety and security for mine, and that I was to respect them and do what they tell me even if I didn’t like it. Their only job, he would say, was to keep me safe.

  “I know that my cousins Brooke, Abby, Ethan, Jack and Ella would agree that we were lucky to have Skip as our gramps. I loved him, and I’ll miss him for the rest of my life. Oh, and, Celia, I’ll still be over to visit every day after school, so keep buying those cookies I like.”

  Nick handed Sam a tissue that she used to dry her suddenly damp eyes as she watched Scotty hug and kiss Celia on his way back to them.

  “Sam?” Reverend Swain said.

  Sam and Nick stood to hug Scotty when he returned to their pew and then walked hand in hand to the altar. She had asked Nick to come with her in case she couldn’t get through her eulogy. He would finish for her if it came to that.

  As she took a moment to gather her thoughts, she looked out at a sea of faces, realizing everyone she loved was there along with countless friends and acquaintances. President and Mrs. Nelson were seated next to Graham, Laine and Terry O’Connor, Lindsey McNamara and Byron Tomlinson. Sam saw her friend Roberto Castro and his girlfriend, Angel. They had also attended the candlelight vigil. Her gaze took in Shelby, Avery, Elin, Christina, Harry, Lilia, Archie, Marti, Leo, Stacy, Will Tyrone, Erica Lucas, A. J. Arnold’s parents, Jeannie McBride’s husband, Michael Wilkinson, and Dr. Trulo. Nick’s friends Derek Kavanaugh and Andy Simone and his wife were there along with Freddie’s parents, Darren Tabor and Scotty’s former guardian, Mrs. Littlefield.

  Sam noted the teary-eyed gaze of Alice Coyne Fitzgerald, widow of Skip’s first partner, Steven Coyne, who had been killed decades ago in an unsolved drive-by shooting. Skip’s faithful devotion to Alice after Steven’s death had caused strain in Skip’s marriage to Sam’s mother.

  “On behalf of the Holland family, I want to thank you for being here and for the tremendous outpouring of love and support over the last few days. To my brothers and sisters in the Metropolitan Police Department, I thank you for your presence here today, as well as the unwavering respect you afforded my father in the years since his devastating injury. It meant the world to him to feel as if he still belonged among the ranks of the department he served so faithfully for thirty-two of the best years of his life—and those are his words, not mine. He loved everything about being a cop, the job he was born to do, and he did it with honor and love for this city and its citizens.

  “He was a fiercely proud Washingtonian who took lifelong delight in seeing the monuments lit up at night and the cherry blossoms blooming in the spring. He loved the parades, the protests, the polit
ics, the madness and the energy of his hometown, referring to anyone born on the ‘wrong’ side of the 14th Street Bridge as a carpetbagger.

  “You’ve already heard from Reverend Swain, Chief Farnsworth and my son, Scotty, about my father’s well-calibrated moral compass, so I won’t belabor that point except to say that my sisters and I are the people we are today in large part because of Skip and that strong inner compass that guided him throughout his life. Whenever the job gets to be too much for me, as it often does, I would turn to my dad to talk me through the latest challenge with words of wisdom and experience that only someone who has done the job would have. He liked to say that we will never know what we prevented simply by getting up and going to work every day. He would remind me, like no one else ever could, of why we do this job and why it matters so much. And whenever my ego got the best of me, he knew just how to keep me humble with a well-placed but loving barb that would bring me right back to reality.” As the others laughed, Sam took a moment to breathe. “At times, it hasn’t been easy being Skip Holland’s daughter in the Metropolitan Police Department. The high standard he set for himself and the people who worked with and for him is one that I aim to emulate every day I spend on the job.

  “I have no idea how...” Her voice broke, and she gave herself a minute to find her composure, determined to get through this without making a spectacle of herself.

  Nick’s hand on her back reminded her he was, like always, there if she needed him.

  She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I have no idea how I’ll do the job without him on my team, but I’m confident that his deep, distinctive voice will always be with me, showing me the way. He would say, ‘You’ve got this, baby girl. You’ve got this.’

  “My dad loved the Old Irish Blessing and quoted it often. It is now my wish for him. ‘May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.’