39: Chapter 39 White's Funeral, Fifth Precinct

Ballard's investigation was still slowly continuing, but Joseph White couldn't wait.

Or rather... it was time for his funeral.

...

Three days later, it started to drizzle in New Orleans.

Shaun stood at the entrance of St. Louis Cemetery, wearing a black suit, clutching a black umbrella in his hand. The rain fell diagonally, wetting his shoulders, but he didn't move.

He was waiting for Ballard.

Two minutes later, a black SUV pulled over to the side of the road.

Ballard pushed open the car door and stepped out, also dressed in black... a black trench coat, black trousers, and black ankle boots.

A few strands of her hair were dampened by the rain, sticking to her forehead, but she wasn't using an umbrella.

Shaun tipped the umbrella toward her.

"Let's go."

Ballard glanced at him, said nothing, and followed him inside.

The area in the cemetery specifically designated for burying police officers was already crowded with people.

They were all in black suits, black dresses, and black umbrellas, like a moving dark cloud.

Joseph White's coffin was placed beside the grave, covered with an American flag.

The priest stood in front, holding a Bible, and had already begun to read the eulogy.

Shaun and Ballard stood at the edge of the crowd.

The two shared an umbrella, their eyes slowly sweeping over the people in front.

...

Standing at the very front was Linda, Joseph White's wife.

She was wearing a long black dress and a veil; the makeup on her face couldn't hide the redness and swelling under her eyes.

She stood very straight, but Shaun could see her shoulders trembling slightly.

Two children stood beside her, a teenage boy and an eight or nine-year-old girl.

The boy kept his face tense, trying hard not to cry.

The girl was already crying with a tear-stained face, tightly clutching her mother's hand.

Shaun looked away.

This stirred a little compassion in him.

Especially since they were standing in front of their husband and father's coffin, not yet knowing that this most important person might have been a dirty cop.

Not yet knowing about that money, those jewels, or that Colombian.

Just as he was feeling this compassion, he heard Ballard whisper in his ear.

She said: "See that row of people in uniform in front?"

"Those are people from the Fifth Precinct, Joseph White's colleagues."

Ballard began to introduce them one by one.

"The one at the very front with graying hair is Deputy Chief Thomas Brown."

Shaun's gaze fell upon that person.

In his fifties, burly, with an extra bar on the police badge on his shoulder compared to the others.

He kept his head slightly lowered, lips pursed, with a heavy expression—the standard expression of a leader attending a subordinate's funeral.

But Shaun noticed that his eyes were looking around.

Not at the coffin.

At the people.

Checking who had come, who hadn't, and who was standing where.

"The tall, thin one to his right," Ballard continued, "is called Dennis O'Brien, the detective captain. Joseph White's direct superior while he was alive."

Shaun looked over.

O'Brien was around fifty, as thin as a bamboo pole, with deep wrinkles on his face.

He stood there, hands crossed in front of him, his eyes fixed on the coffin.

"The slightly fatter one to his left is Richard Gross, the administrative supervisor. The kind who doesn't really manage anything."

Gross was indeed fat; the buttons on his suit were about to pop. He looked a bit absent-minded, checking his watch from time to time.

Ballard didn't wait for Shaun to digest this and continued introducing: "The row behind, regular officers. The first one on the left, that bearded man, is Victor Sanchez, Joseph White's partner. The second one, that woman, is Emily Waters, civilian staff. The third..."

Ballard introduced them one by one.

Shaun remembered them one by one.

Sanchez, the bearded man, had red eyes and kept wiping away tears.

Waters, blonde, in her early thirties, had a calm expression, occasionally looking around.

Jensen, a young Black man, stood straight as if on guard duty.

Parker, an old man with white hair nearing retirement, had no expression on his face.

Seven people in total.

Shaun memorized all their faces.

Shaun suddenly remembered a question and asked: "Why wasn't Sanchez there when the call went out that day?"

Ballard snorted coldly: "Said he was suddenly feeling unwell and took leave."

Shaun understood Ballard's snort; this was too coincidental.

The rain grew heavier.

The priest's voice echoed in the rain.

"...Joseph White, a good husband, a good father, a good police officer..."

The coffin slowly descended into the grave.

Linda's body swayed, and a relative next to her supported her.

The two children burst into tears.

People around began to scatter soil onto the coffin.

Ballard stood beside Shaun, watching all this in silence.

After a long while, she suddenly spoke: "Shaun."

Shaun turned his head, but found that Ballard wasn't looking at him; she was still watching the coffin being covered by soil.

"I want to discuss something with you."

Shaun waited for what was next.

Ballard was silent for a few seconds, then seemed to make a decision, and said: "I want to temporarily stay at your estate."

Shaun was stunned for a moment and instinctively asked: "...What?"

Ballard finally turned her head, and Shaun noticed that her eyes looked exceptionally clear in the rain.

She said: "These past few days, I've constantly felt like someone is watching me."

Shaun listened, frowning: "Watching you?"

"Yeah! Not following, just... a feeling!"

"On the way home from work, downstairs at my apartment, even at the entrance of the precinct. Someone is watching from not too far away."

She paused, then continued: "Maybe I'm overthinking it, but..."

"This case involves too many people! The Colombians, the mole... If those people know what I've found..."

She didn't continue.

But Shaun understood.

If those people knew what she had found, she might be the next Joseph White.

Shaun asked: "The apartment you're living in, is it unsafe?"

Ballard nodded: "Old building, no security cameras, security is non-existent. Every night when I go back, I feel like the hallway is terrifyingly dark."

She looked at Shaun: "Although your estate is remote, but..."

As Ballard said this, the corners of her mouth moved slightly, as if she couldn't help but smile: "At least it opens its own doors."

So that was it!

Ballard knew Shaun's estate wasn't simple, which was why she made this request.

So Shaun smiled: "Did you take a liking to my house?"

Ballard put away her smile, her gaze very serious: "Shaun, I'm serious."

Seeing Ballard so serious, Shaun nodded without any hesitation.

"My estate is empty anyway. A dozen or so rooms, no one living there."

"You can just pick a room."

Ballard stared at Shaun, as if wanting to see hesitation in his eyes.

She thought to herself: "Is he really not afraid that I'll leak the secrets of his estate?"

But Ballard didn't ask this question, just said "Thank you."

Shaun had agreed quite quickly, but suddenly realized a problem.

Right now, Fiona was working as the housekeeper at the estate; he didn't know if there would be any issues when Ballard arrived and the two met.

But thinking about it... both of them were "normal people," so there shouldn't be much of a problem...

Just as he was thinking this, the golden book in his mind flipped another page.

【Renee Ballard Favorability: 65 → 72】

【Note: She feels that you completely trust her +7】

【Current Favorability: 72 / 100】

Shaun felt the joy of owning the estate once again!

Look at that, just by giving a room, he got so much favorability!