THE SIMPLE TRUTH

But there were two things Fiske — with the assistance of JAG attorney Phil Jansen — was going to accomplish for Rufus: an honorable discharge, and a full military pension and benefits. Rufus Harms wasn’t going to scrape for an existence, not after all he had been through.

As Fiske finished this thought, Sara walked up with Elizabeth Knight. Sara had returned to the Court as Knight’s clerk. The place was slowly returning to normal. Or as normal as it was going to get with Knight and Ramsey in the same building.

“I feel deeply responsible for all of this,” Knight said.

She and the senator, Fiske knew, were divorcing. The government, the Army in particular, wanted to keep all of this quiet. Important strings in Washington were being pulled. That meant that Jordan Knight might not go to prison for all that he had done. Even with Elizabeth Knight’s consent, the legality of the electronic surveillance of the man had already been drawn into serious question by the senator’s very skillful lawyers. In a private meeting with McKenna, the FBI agent had told Fiske that the wiretap had been a risky strategy, since they did not have the consent of one of the parties being taped, but it was the only way McKenna could think of to implicate Jordan Knight. But without the recording, Chandler and McKenna really had nothing to take to court. The thought that Jordan would go unpunished made Fiske want to visit the man late at night with his 9mm. But the man had suffered, and would continue to do so. The wiretap had carried some leverage. Jordan had resigned his senate seat and, more devastatingly, lost the woman he cherished. He still had his New Mexico ranch, though. Let it be your seven-thousand-acre prison, Fiske thought.

“If there’s anything I can ever do for you . . .” Elizabeth Knight said.

“You have the same offer from me,” Fiske said.

Thirty minutes after the last mourners were gone, Fiske, his father and Sara watched as the chairs and green carpet were removed. The coffin was lowered, and the slab was laid over the vault. Then the dirt was shoveled on top. Fiske spoke with his father and Sara for a few minutes and told them he would meet them back at his father’s house. He watched them drive off. When he looked back over at the fresh hump of earth, he was startled. The cemetery workers were gone now, but on his knees next to the new grave, eyes closed, Bible clutched in one hand, was Rufus Harms.

Fiske walked over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Rufus, you okay? I didn’t even know you were still here.”

Rufus didn’t open his eyes, and he didn’t say anything. Fiske watched as his lips moved slightly. Finally, Rufus opened his eyes and looked up at him.

“What were you doing?”

“Praying.”

“Oh.”

“How about you?”

“How about me, what?”

“Have you prayed over your brother yet?”

“Rufus, I haven’t been to Mass since high school.”

Rufus gripped Fiske’s sleeve and pulled him down next to him. “Then it’s time you started up again.”

His face suddenly pale, Fiske looked at the grave site. “Come on, Rufus, this isn’t funny.”

“Nothing funny about saying good-bye. Talk to your brother, and then talk to your Lord.”

“I don’t remember any prayers.”

“Then don’t pray. Just talk, plain words.”

“What exactly am I supposed to say?”

Rufus had already closed his eyes and didn’t answer.

Fiske looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then he turned back, looked over at Rufus, awkwardly put his hands together and, embarrassed, finally let them dangle at his sides. At first he didn’t even close his eyes, but then they just seemed to do so on their own. He felt the moisture from the ground soak through his pants legs, but he didn’t move. He felt the comforting presence of Rufus next to him. He didn’t know if he could have remained here without it.

He focused on all that had happened. He thought of his mother and his father. The insurance money had given Gladys Fiske her first trip to the beauty parlor in years, and some new clothes to admire herself in. To her he was still Mike, but at least she remembered one of them. Ed Fiske would soon be driving a new Ford pickup, the loan on the house paid off. He and his father were planning a fishing trip for the next year, down in the Ozarks. A lot to be thankful for.

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