Cold Case

Epilogue

"The florist told me that the orchid meant 'I will always love you'. I'm no Whitney Houston but remember when we were rookies and you drove around and I'd belt out Saving All My Love For You and I Will Always Love You and you kept telling me how I sounded like a dying cat? And when I got everyone in the precinct to prank you for your birthday by simultaneously blasting I Wanna Dance With Somebody off their computers when I brought out the cake, and you hated me for two weeks? So here you go. 'Cause I will always love you. You were my best friend. You had a handsome smile. You loved me, and I wish I loved you back in the way you wanted. You deserved more. But you take this orchid and you remember me up in Heaven. Even when you're hooking up with God's best looking women, 'cause you're a looker, remember me. I'll always remember you. You're every single star in the sky for me. I love you. Goodbye, Jongin."

Sniffing, Jennie bent and placed a soft kiss against his gravestone, dropping the orchids. Tears streamed down her face—the tears she refused to shed in front of his shit-head of a father, David Kim, the ex-Mayor. Some nights she wanted to quit narcs all together, and some nights she wondered if she'd stay in that department for all eternity because of Kim Jongin and his legacy of doing the right thing.

He'd asked her not to avenge him, but what else could she have done? He'd asked her not to let anger consume her, not to seek death for him—and she hadn't. She'd brought him justice. It had to be enough.

It was sick that the justice they'd unravelled was treachery in the form of David Kim—but that man had never been good to Jongin. Manipulative, shrewd and harsh, Jennie remembered the days Jongin would come to work, sleepy, puffy-eyed and down. No-one could cheer him up. David had always been harsh on him; Jennie never asked beyond that. All she knew now was that he was behind bars. Considering he'd been the Mayor and had probably put away half of those criminals, she hoped he got the shit beaten out of him for it.

Jennie swiped furiously at her face, kneeling on the ground as she hung her head, sobbing. They'd taken him too early. They'd taken the wrong soul. Kim Jongin had been the purest, and God had just been selfish. Death had been mistaken.

She didn't even want to think about the many ways she wanted to torture Jimin Park. All of them ended with castration.

She stood up slowly, and blew the gravestone another kiss. "Detective Kim Jongin, the precinct's really fucking proud of you. And we all love you. We do. We'll miss you every day. Take care up there, Jongin. Avoid the bolts of lightning. You're much closer."

Jennie grinned half-heartedly at her joke, knowing how much Jongin hated her lame sense of humour and awful puns. She would never ride around in a police car with Kim Jongin again. She'd never advise him on extraction routes as he trampled through drug dens and apartment blocks with care. He'd been the gun on the ground; she'd been his ear.

Jennie eventually walked away, knowing she'd visit again. Closure felt good for her heart. It wasn't a bandaid; it was more like a pacemaker. And repeat visits would only be for the sake of keeping him updated. She was sure he'd want to know about her cutting her toenails at night. That was the kind of stuff that she used to say when she made sure he had a mouthful of coffee in his mouth in the morning, and everyone would laugh as he spat it everywhere.

Lisa sat patiently on the bench as Jennie neared, standing up to greet her. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I just...I never really got closure at his funeral. I just wanted one last time with him. Alone."

"You've been crying."

"I know. It's lame, I know. I haven't gotten over—"

"It's not lame." Lisa brushed the wetness from her cheeks, and Jennie scrunched her eyes up, trying not to well up again. "Everyone reacts differently when they've lost someone."