Heartless by Janet Taylor-Perry Page B

teeth he
muttered, "Damn it, but he had to do his job."
A little later, Raif, Chris, and family arrived with Chinese
takeout. Everybody congregated in the living room. Ray held
up the envelope. "Well?"
"You read it," said Parker. "I'm too scared."
Ray opened the envelope and read the DNA analysis. He
looked at Parker who seemed to holding his breath. Almost
inaudibly Parker whispered, "Please, God?"
Ray nodded.
"Yes?" asked Parker
"Yes."
"Yes!" The boy punched the air.
Ray held out both arms. Parker fell into his father's
embrace.
10
A Long Good-bye
    The attendance at Robert LaFontaine's funeral held at Christ
the King Catholic Church in Baton Rouge ranged from actual
homeless victims to foreign dignitaries. On top of the closed
coffin, Deanna LaFontaine placed a flattering portrait in which
Robert's hair had not begun to thin and his pale blue eyes
looked wistful. Even in the end, she maintained the illusion that
Robert was a family man as she and her two children and
Robert's parents, Evan and Alexis, sat together in solidarity.
    The words of the priest brought little comfort to those who
knew the Senator intimately. Kimberly cried softly on her
mother's shoulder as Alexis LaFontaine dabbed her eyes.
Deanna looked tired, but she held up well under real pressure.
The men in the family seemed stoic. Evan LaFontaine looked
dejected with dark circles beneath his eyes and deep lines in his
forehead while Kyle glowered at the picture, but shed no tears.
Raiford Reynolds thought if the boy were not only ten, the
expression on his face would bump him to the top of the suspect
list.
    Some of the officials at the service seemed genuine about
their feeling of loss. Others appeared to be performing a duty
as required of their office. Among the common folk, the
sentiment seemed to be that they had lost an advocate. Some of
Robert's ideas for social reform had held merit. Even Ray had
liked many of Robert's political stances except his views on
government involvement in family matters came as too liberal
to Ray's way of thinking.
    Six state troopers served as pall bearers. It was fitting since
Robert had been quite supportive of law enforcement, fighting
for increased safety measures and better compensation and
benefits, a stance Ray had really liked. One young trooper with
close-clipped chestnut hair and hazel eyes seemed particularly
moved as he unabashedly wiped tears from his cheeks. Ray
thought this must be one of the state troopers often called upon
to guard the LaFontaine family, though Ray paid little close
attention to most of the mourners. He was feeling a real sense
of loss himself.
    Bagpipes played "Amazing Grace" at the solemn interment,
and Larkin prayed that, perhaps, the man had found Grace. The
coffin was draped in an American flag instead of flowers,
which was fitting for Robert had been a weekend warrior of the
National Guard from the time he was eighteen. The young
trooper who appeared to be the leader of the state police
contingent presented the flag to the Senator's son who glared
with as much hatred at the officer as he had at the portrait of
his late father.
    After the funeral, only family and close friends were
invited to the LaFontaine's home for a traditional wake.
Deanna personally invited Ray and his family to come back to
the house.
    As Ray placed a scoop of hash-brown casserole on a plate,
Kyle brushed against him and raced up the stairs, presumably
to his room. This child's face flushed scarlet, but his light blue
eyes appeared glazed.
    Deanna stopped by her husband's old friend. "He refuses to
cry," she murmured to Ray. "Maybe you can talk to him a
moment before you leave."
    "You know it." He looked up the stairs. "He looks so much
like his father."
Deanna nodded. "Thanks. Saul needs to speak to you a
minute. Apparently, Robert left you something to be opened in
case of his death." She shrugged. "I have no idea what it could
be. Instructions are for your eyes only."
Ray set