“No, I just stopped in for a piece of cake. Then I need to get home to Luisa and the kids. She’s much prettier than you.”

“Everyone gather round,” Nic said loudly, nodding.

Carter wasn’t sure what Taz meant by having a piece of cake. It seemed odd to be celebrating the death of a teammate, but he wasn’t about to question their traditions.

Once the group had come together, Nic announced, “I bought this cake for Strom today, since we’re all a bunch of pricks and forgot that his birthday was two weeks ago.”

Nic opened the box and sat the cake in the middle of countertop for everyone to see. There was a gold police shield in the center surrounded by blue letters which read Happy Birthday, From your brothers … Better late than never.

Tears fell down Nic’s cheeks, and everyone stared at the cake in silence. Carter could feel the swirling emotions of pain and loss in the air. Over his career, he had lost many friends and coworkers, but he had never watched a kid die right in front of him like he had that day. One minute, the young SWAT officer had been talking about having a hot date, and the next he was gone.

Nic’s voice shook as he held up his drink and recited, “Someone killed a policeman today. And a part of America died … And a piece of our country which he swore to protect, will be buried with him at his side. The beat that he walked was a battlefield too, just as if he had gone off to war. Though the flag of our nation won’t fly at half mast, to his name they will add a gold star. The suspect who killed him will stand up in court, with counsel demanding his rights. While a young, widowed mother must work hard for kids, and spend many long, lonely nights. Yes, someone killed a policeman today. Maybe in your hometown or mine. While we slept in comfort behind our locked doors, a cop put his life on the line. Now his ghost walks the beat on a dark city street, and he stands by each new rookie’s side. He answered the call, of himself gave his all. And a part of America died.”

By the time he reached the end, tears dripped from Nic’s face, and his voice cracked.

“For Stromberg, a fallen brother who deserved a whole lot better,” he said. “Gone, but never forgotten.”

Then Nic dug in a drawer, retrieved a knife, and started cutting the cake.

Chapter 83

Burke sat in the passenger seat of the Firebird, his eyes closed to hold back the tears, his arms wrapped around his own body in a tight hug. He replayed every mistake from the day, every wrong word, every time he spoke up when he shouldn’t have or kept his mouth shut when he should have spoken up. It seemed that no matter what he did, his reactions were always wrong.