The crime scene tape has gone. Only the clean up now. The pooch is safe, with Rigsby.
Sinking into his armchair, whisky in hand, Laroche closes his eyes, letting out a long breath.
All-in-all, it could have been much more horrific. He could be in a cell, charged with assault or worse.
His career, his home, gone. Hounded as a monster.
The container is secure. Patrick knows his secret and likely Teresa too. And… they protected him. Accepted him.
After everything.
He finds himself smiling.
Comes around, goes around. If Patrick ever needs him, he'll be there.