Her step faltered when she saw him, and she had to blink away their shared memory of the four dead cops before she could summon a semblance of a smile. “You’re back.” “Sitting by myself at home wasn’t doing anybody any good.” Joly shrugged. “Least of all me.” Alex nodded understanding. She searched for something to say but came up dry. Small talk seemed beyond her these days. Michael had followed her from the conference room, and stood off to one side. As he’d promised, no one had taken notice of his presence among them. Joly’s handlebar mustache twitched from side to side as he pursed unseen lips. “Abrams told me about your sister,” he said finally. “I’m sorry.” Again, Alex nodded but didn’t speak. Again, there were no words. “Do you know yet when the funeral is?” “I haven’t—I don’t—”
