Loves Me Not

FORTY TWO

AFTER
DETECTIVE BRETT PORTER

Her funeral is today. It also happens to be the first day of June – her birthday.

After the autopsy was completed, the body was released to the family. They could have done the funeral anytime during this past week, but they wanted to wait until today – Saturday – to ensure that it was convenient for people to attend. There's also some dark irony in doing the funeral the day of her birthday. I presume they are expecting many to show.

The service was Friday evening at Commerce Hill. Due to the condition of the body, the casket was closed. People walked around and left flowers on the casket, saying a few words as they stood there, mourning the loss of Catalaina Kittridge. As chilling as it was, I hovered over the casket myself, fully aware of what laid inside.

There was a photo montage that her mother and brother put together. I stood there and observed each photograph. I saw Catalaina as a child, standing in her kitchen wearing pink pajamas. Catalaina and her family at Disney World. Catalaina on her first day of school. Catalaina smiling at the camera, gap-toothed. Then an older Catalaina in her teenage years, posing with her friends. Catalaina at prom in a bright pink dress. Catalaina and Holden, laughing at one another. Catalaina and a boy I recognized as Will Sterling, years younger.

The photos of Ben and Catalaina on vacation together in Dominican brought us to now, the age she was when she died. I stood back and surveyed the montage, taking it all in. How she was once a living, breathing, heathy girl, and now she ceases to exist, except for in memory.

Now, Zoey and I sit at St. Augustine's Cathedral for the funeral. We got here around 10:30 a.m. even though the service doesn't begin until 11:00. I wanted to get here a bit early to have enough time to scout out the place, examine everyone who comes in. More likely than not, Catalaina knew her killer. And sometimes, the killer comes to the funeral out of guilt or remorse. Or if they're a true psychopath, they come to see what they've accomplished.

I study the room, watching people file in through the front doors, heading to the rows of seats. We're seated near the back so I have a full view of the church and all of its occupants.

Nobody stands out. Uniformed, everyone wears black and has tear-stained cheeks. I keep an eye out for blank stares or conspicuous looks, but so far, no one gives anything away.

Once everyone has arrived and the doors are closed, the pastor makes his way to the front of the podium and turns on the microphone. The room falls silent as he begins to speak.

"We are gathered here today to say farewell to Catalaina Jane Kittridge and to commit her into the hands of God. Just shy of her twenty-seventh birthday, Catalaina was taken from us far too soon. So today we congregate together – friends, family, and loved ones – to say goodbye. Heaven gained another angel."

We listen on as he recites hymn after hymn, and then together, we all say a prayer.

After that, Catalaina's mother replaces the pastor's spot at the front of the church and makes a speech.

"Thank you all for coming," she says meekly, looking up from the microphone. She's holding tissues bunched up in her hands. "To everyone here who knew Catalaina personally, you know what a marvelous young woman she was. Ever since she was a child, Catalaina had one goal in life, and that was to help people. She'd envision career paths for herself such as becoming a vet or a doctor because all she wanted was to help others. She'd spend her time at recess sitting with the crying girl rather than running off and having fun with her friends. She always put other people's needs before her own, always ensuring everyone else's happiness above hers.
"Catalaina had big dreams for herself. She wanted to publish her work and become a novelist. She wanted to get married, have children, and start a family. She was only twenty-six years old –" she chokes on her words as she begins to cry, then quickly stops and gathers herself, regaining composure. "Today she would have been twenty-seven.
"If there is one thing that Catalaina would want today, it would be for everyone to move on from her passing and find the light again. If she were here, she'd tell us all to stop crying. She'd tell us that there are dark days in life, but they get better. We will always love Catalaina immensely and none of us will ever forget her or the impact she had on our lives. But with her words in my mind, I will try to keep my head above water and be strong for her. I ask all of you to do the same. Thank you."

As the funeral comes to a close, people gather near the doors to say a few words to Catalaina's family. I hear words in passing. "She was such a kind girl." "She was always smiling." "I'll never forget her."

I spot Scarlett standing off to the side, taking a sip from a wine glass. I approach her and nod my head once she sees me. Her red hair is tied back in a tight ponytail and she's wearing a black dress with a blazer.
"How are you holding up?" I ask as I stand next to her.
She takes another sip and eyes me. "I don't know how to answer that."
"Coping?" I nod to the wine glass.
She rolls her eyes. "Catalaina would fucking hate this."
"What, the wine?"
"No, her own funeral. If she could see this right now, she'd be rolling over in her grave."
"Why's that?"
Scarlett snorts. "It's ridiculous. These people claim to know her, but they didn't know a damn thing. Because anyone who truly knew her would know that she doesn't believe in religion and rejects the notion of Christianity. She'd hate the whole all black to church concept and the fucking minister reciting hymns and prayers. Please." She takes another sip of wine.
"What would she have wanted then?"
Scarlett thinks about this. "Nothing. She'd want nothing. Catalaina hated attention. I think she'd prefer if no one made a big deal about her death. If anything, she'd want to be cremated so that no one could gawk over her dead body. You know what she said to me once? That she finds the idea of open-caskets ridiculous. Once my soul is gone, my body is irrelevant because it's no longer me. It's just a corpse. That's what she said to me. Then she'd probably want her ashes to be dumped in the ocean and she'd tell everyone to have a party or something. Celebrate my life, don't mourn my death. That's what she'd say."
"It's a shame she's not here to tell anyone that."
"Yeah," she says, staring off into the distance. "A damn shame is right."

I head out of the church to meet Zoey back at the car. I glance over my shoulder and take one last look at her parents, who are holding back tears as they stand near the doors. They'll never get to see their little girl again.

I hear the raised voices before I even reach the parking lot. I pick up my pace and turn the corner to see three men and a few women in a small circle. One of the men is yelling at the other one, cursing at him. It's not until I get closer that I can make out who they are. It's Ben, Dominic, and Will.

I open my mouth to say something, but I'm not fast enough. I watch as Ben lurches forward and punches Dominic square in the face.