Chapter 37

   The police memorial service took place for Dwayne a week later. Most of the available force was at the church to pay their respects. After the service, Dwayne’s family was to bring him back to Las Vegas for the family viewing and services.

   The week leading to the memorial had been quite busy. Nic had not gotten any sleep the night of Dwayne’s and Roman Wells’s deaths. He had had many questions to answer, most of which involved why Dwayne had been visiting someone they knew to be a professional assassin, and what it had to do with Damien Tyler’s, aka Oscar Debartolo’s, murder. Nic admitted it would have been easier if he’d brought a tape recorder to document Wells’s confession.

   The snotty desk clerk at the hotel had filed a complaint of harassment against Nic. However, when Nic countered that the slightest delay may have resulted in him not getting there in time to save Dwayne, the clerk immediately backed down.

   Three days after the disastrous night, divers had indeed found the bullets that had entered and exited Damien Tyler’s body, and the case was declared officially closed at that point, with the bullets and the marina manager’s testimony as evidence.

   Nic stood at the back of the church during the service. Any other officer would have sat in the pews with their colleagues. Nic, however, did not feel like a colleague, and never had the entire time he had been in Reno. Besides, in the preceding week, there were mixed feelings about him. Some regarded him as a hero for taking down Wells, while others regarded him as reckless for letting Dwayne carry things too far. He was an outcast, a role he had been used to for most of his adult life.

   The captain appeared beside him near the end of the service. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “He was my partner, of course I was going to show. After this, though, I’m gone.”

  “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

  “I do. Something else came up in this case, and I can’t solve it here.”

  “Take your badge with you and call it a vacation. At least you’ll have some authority.”

  “I checked my hunting license, it’s all renewed as of yesterday.”

  “That’s no authority unless you’re after a bail-jumper.”

  “Not a bail-jumper…not yet, anyway.”

   The captain glared, but looked more like a dried grapefruit. “What the hell are you trying to prove?”

  “Look, the kid pushed and pushed and we ended up uncovering something. If it hadn’t been for him, the boat shooting wouldn’t have been solved. I owe him this much.”

  “What is ‘this’, exactly?”

  “Look, an assassin kills another assassin, offers us a piece of a strange puzzle, then kills Dwayne after giving the piece.”

  “Wells was a scumbag! Makes sense to me.”

  “No, assassins don’t work independently like that. I need to find out what it all means.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Las Vegas.”

   The captain sighed. “I can’t change your mind?”

  “No. Besides, apparently my old enemies have other problems now. I got a call that said I was in the clear. The trick is to keep it that way.” He pulled out his badge. “Here. I never had a service revolver, my own gun worked better.”

  “Nic, you did good with this. I know you’re in a bad spot now, but it’ll pass.”

  “I know so, too, but take the badge. I’m no cop, never will be for real. Let’s just leave it at that.”

   The boss took it, looked at Nic for a moment, then walked away. The crowd began to file out of the church. Most of the officers regarded Nic with a nod or a pat on the shoulder. None offered any words, either out of respect or contempt.

   At the end of the line was Dwayne’s father. He looked only slightly older than Dwayne, but certainly less wide-eyed and idealistic. The man approached Nic and extended his hand. “I’m Brock.”

   Nic shook the hand firmly. “Brock, I’m Nic, Dwayne’s partner.”

  “Maybe you can tell me what happened. Nobody else seems to know or want to say anything.”

  “Do you have to take Dwayne to Las Vegas today?”

  “No, that’s already been taken care of. I go home tomorrow.”

  “Have time for a cup of coffee? I’d feel better not talking here.”

  “Certainly.”

   An hour later, the two men were sitting in a diner not far from the church. Brock Behrens wanted to get right to the point. “How did my son die?”

  “A professional assassin took him out. It was supposed to be a business deal to get facts on a case I’m still not clear on.”

   Brock sighed. “Nic, none of it makes sense.”

  “It doesn’t to me, either. I will say, though, that if it hadn’t been for Dwayne, I would have let the case we were working on die.”

  “And if you’d convinced him to drop it, he’d still be alive.”

  “I’d say so, yes.”

   The men were silent for a minute. Then Brock said, “I don’t blame you, Nic. My boy was stubborn, and nobody could talk him out of anything he wanted to do, including becoming a cop. Understand, though, that I must explain this to his mother and sister and old girlfriend, who was coming here to visit him soon.”

   Nic smiled. “He didn’t mention the girlfriend.”

  “Well, it ended when Dwayne went to the police academy. She was afraid of him getting killed, understandably. A few weeks ago, she called and asked about him and told us she wanted to pay him a surprise visit. We still don’t know why, the breakup had been bitter for both.”

   Nic sipped his coffee for a moment in thought, then said, “Brock, I’m coming to Vegas.”

  “Why?”

  “This new case, whatever it is, seems to be centered there. I owe it to Dwayne to see it through.”

  “But you’re a cop here.”

  “Not really. My time here was, you might say, a cover. My real career is bounty-hunting.”

  “I see. Were you successful at it?”

  “Which career do you mean?”

  “Either.”

  “I was good at hunting, almost too good, that’s why I was hiding out here. As a cop, well, I filled a quota for the department in arrests. My tracking skills came in useful. Being a cop involves too many rules and procedures for me, though. I like independent work.”

  “Loner in life?”

  “Pretty much the lone wolf, yeah. I have a son out there somewhere, but his mom and I had a bad falling out years ago.  I don’t even know where they are.”

   Brock pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got this, Nic. I feel better knowing something now. When you get to Vegas, give my office a call. I’ll fix you up at one of our condo units. Hotels there are much too expensive.” Brock handed Nic a business card.

   Nic looked it over. “Desert Springs Condominiums.”

  “Furnished, too. Take care, Nic. See you in Vegas, hopefully.” Brock walked away after leaving some bills on the table.