Chapter 36: "Cast Me Gently into Morning, For the Night Has Been Unkind"

Copyright Notice: The title of this chapter and some later dialogues are references to the Sarah McLachlan song "Answer" from her 2003 album "Afterglow". Such lyrics are the official property of Arista Records and any other related entities.

The funeral for fallen Blaine County deputy sheriffs Jedediah "Jed" Craven, Rufus Hitchcock, and Arnold "Arnie" Ephron took place on a fittingly somber and uncomfortably rainy day. The melancholy precession consisted of roughly 200 uniformed law enforcement officers and other emergency officials from 3 states walking on foot down Blaine County's Route 68 and onto the Great Ocean Highway toward Paleto Bay.

They were accompanied by a multitude of other first responders, military personnel from Fort Zancudo, and bereaved Blaine County townspeople. At the forefront were Blaine County Sheriff Jack Burton, Los Santos Chief of Police Reynard Sacco, Sandy Shores Fire Chief Bobby Cox, and Blaine County Chief Deputy Gordon Pulaski. The four high-ranking officials, all clad in their respective dress uniforms, surrounded the first of the three separate hearses carrying the bodies of the three slain deputies. The three vehicles carefully rolled down the road with all the other people surrounding them.

In the midst of all this, the woodwind section of the band from Blaine County Central High School walked alongside them as well, playing a soulful rendition of "Amazing Grace". This small group was fronted by 17-year-old flutist Amy Earl. Amy and her eight bandmates were all dressed in suitable black outfits.

The precession came to a stop at the St. Brigid Baptist Church in Paleto Bay. The three late deputies had all essentially been lifelong members of the congregation there and their families had asked that they be eulogized there and laid to rest in the small cemetery in the rear of the property.

Fellowship Hall
St. Brigid Baptist Church
Duloz Avenue, Paleto Bay
Later That Day
9:30 AM

Following the packed funeral service in the church sanctuary, everyone went downstairs to the basement level where the fellowship hall was located and a buffet was set up. Some of the first people to partake in the immense spread of good food were LSPD Chief Detective Troy Harrison and his girlfriend, crime lab criminalist Anna Barakova.

Harrison was dressed in his black LSPD dress uniform, consisting of a large suit jacket with decorative brass buttons running down the front, white cotton gloves, a black mourning band police hat, long black dress pants, and expertly polished black dress shoes. A thin black band of fabric placed over his Chief Detective's badge symbolized the loss of the three deputies. Anna, meanwhile, was dressed in a simple black church dress and black flat heels with her handmade knitted black sweater complementing her dress quite nicely. Her strawberry blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail.

"You doing okay, babe?" a concerned Anna asked Harrison.

Harrison looked to his girlfriend and nodded, kissing her cheek. "I'll be fine, honey" he candidly replied, "It's just that this is the first police funeral that I've been to in a long time, and losing three guys at once is hard to take for any cop."

"I know", Anna said as she put her arm around Harrison, "It's going to be okay."

Harrison was in the middle of putting a piece of apple pie onto a paper plate when he happened to catch a glimpse of the enlarged portraits of the three deputies, which were all propped up on large easel-like frames a few feet away. He handed his plate to Anna and crossed to the three portraits, electing to partake in a few minutes of reflection.

"'Cast me gently into morning'", he said softly, "'for the night has been unkind'. Rest in peace, boys." Harrison then sighed deeply, hoping to avoid the seemingly inevitable return of the tears that he'd been shedding during the earlier service.

Anna then came up to Harrison and stood beside him for a solid beat, looking at the portraits more closely herself. She then put a hand on his shoulder. "What is that from?" she asked.

Harrison snapped out of his gloomy moment and looked to Anna. "What is what from, babe?" he said.

"Those words you said a minute ago", Anna replied, "Was that from some kind of poem or something?"

Harrison grinned. "No", he explained, "They're Sarah McLachlan lyrics. I figured they were fitting to tell the boys and say goodbye in my own way."

30 minutes later, Harrison and Anna were bidding goodbye to everybody as they got ready to leave the church. Harrison was in the middle of shaking hands with Sheriff Burton and Chief Deputy Pulaski, while Anna hugged Deputy Winifred "Fred" Morris.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, guys" Harrison said, "If there's anything I or the LSPD can do, don't be a stranger."

"Thank you, Troy" Pulaski said, "We so appreciate you guys coming out and showing your support."

"You're welcome, Gordon" Harrison replied, "You hang in there, brother." Harrison nodded to Sheriff Burton. "Sheriff", he continued as he put a hand on his shoulder, "Keep your head up, okay? Better days are ahead, sir."

Sheriff Burton patted Harrison's shoulder. "Thank you again, Chief Harrison" he said, "I sure hope that you're right."

Harrison and Anna then headed toward the former's waiting Dodge Charger. Harrison slid into his driver's seat and reached across, pulling the interior door handle to chivalrously open Anna's door for her. Anna then opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, at which point Harrison's cell phone began ringing. Harrison then grabbed the phone from the cupholder and looked at the Caller ID, noting that the caller was Franklin Clinton.

"Hey Franklin", he answered, "What's up, man?"

"What's good, Harrison?" Franklin said from his end of the line, "I've been watching that farm that Lester told us about. You said that this 'Vlado Marks' guy was a big bald white dude, right?"

"Yeah", Harrison replied, "You saw that surveillance image. But what do you mean you've been watching the farm?"

"I've been parked on my motorcycle across the street for like four hours now", Franklin said, "It's been pretty quiet until about five minutes ago. I saw a dude that looks like this Marks guy you're looking for."

Harrison apprehensively sighed upon hearing that. "Damn Franklin", Harrison replied, "I wish you would've given me a heads-up sooner, bud. You shouldn't be seeking this guy out on your own. He's known for shooting dudes twice in the head if they so much as fart in his direction."

Franklin chuckled from his side of the line. "You're kidding me, right?" he said, "I'm from South Los Santos, homie. My home neighborhood butts up right against Vagos territory."

"Touché", Harrison said before sighing with uneasiness once again, "Alright. I'm in Paleto Bay now. Where's the farm again?"

"On Joad Lane in Grapeseed", Franklin replied.

"Got it", Harrison said, "I'll be there as soon as I can. Sit tight and wait for me, okay?"

"You got it, dog" he said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Harrison hung up and looked to Anna with a regretful look on his face.

"What is it?" Anna inquired, an equally unhappy look now crossing her face.

"Franklin Clinton's got a lead on Vlado Marks", Harrison explained, "He was able to trace him to a potato farm over in Grapeseed."

"With all due respect to your buddy Franklin", Anna said with a very forthright tone, "Last time I checked, he wasn't a cop. Since when do we outsource investigative work to civilians?"

"Since the only available cops are busy mourning the loss of three of their own", Harrison replied just as bluntly. "Look", he continued, "Franklin's a smart, streetwise guy who's seen and been through just as much shit as any street cop. If the sheriffs out here aren't able to have my back right at this moment, he's the next best thing."

"Fine", Anna said, "Just drop me at the Bayview Lodge, do what you have to do, and meet me back there later."

Joad Lane
Grapeseed
15 Minutes Later

The morning rainstorm increased by the time Harrison arrived in Grapeseed, with sheets of rain hammering the area. Harrison pulled his Charger in behind Franklin's customized metallic candy red 1970 Ducati GT 750 motorcycle and quickly exited the car, momentarily crossing to the trunk and grabbing his neon yellow LSPD-issued raincoat, promptly putting it on and putting up his hood.

Dressed in a gray zippered hooded sweatshirt, Franklin dismounted from his Ducati and walked over to the back of Harrison's car, at which point he bumped fists with the Chief Detective.

"Thanks for the call, Franklin" Harrison said, "What's the story?"

"I've been parked out here for a while watching this farm", Franklin began explaining as he motioned to the Union Potato Farm across the street. "Lester was right", he continued, "There's a small warehouse-looking building on the farm. It looks like all the workers bunk there when they're not working the fields."

"Have a lot of people been going out since you first got here?" Harrison asked.

"Yeah, man" Franklin replied, "Once the rain started, everybody went inside. It looks like a lot of Hispanic dudes. Your boy Marks looks like the only one who stands out for obvious reasons."

"And you're sure Marks is in there?" Harrison asked.

Franklin shot Harrison a knowing look in retort. "Come on, Harrison" he said, "I think you know me better than that, man. I wouldn't have called you if he wasn't in there."

"Right", Harrison said as he pulled his raincoat back and revealed his Sig-Sauer P-226 handgun sticking out of his brown leather shoulder holster. "Are you armed?" he asked.

Franklin nodded and pulled back his sweatshirt, revealing his own black Baretta M9A3 handgun in a black leather Ammunation brand shoulder holster.

Harrison grinned at the sight of Franklin's gun. "Baretta M-Nine-A-Three, huh?" he said, "That's a nice piece. Did you get that thing at the Ammunation clearance sale or something?"

Franklin chuckled. "Nah, homie" he replied, "My auntie Denise gave me this for my nineteenth birthday."

The two then stealthily hurried across the road and onto the farm's property, at which point Harrison saw a very peculiar looking sign nailed to a fence post. "'Forget the dog, beware the owner'" he read out loud, "Heh. That's comforting."

"No shit", Franklin softly replied, "I never thought I'd see one of those signs outside Chamberlain Hills."

Seeing the dorm building, Harrison and Franklin hustled up onto the front porch and stood on either side of the door. "Don't take that Baretta out unless I tell you to, okay?" Harrison whispered to Franklin, "I don't want to give this prick any sort of legit reason to start popping off at us."

Franklin nodded just before Harrison knocked loudly on the dorm building's front door. "San Andreas Water and Power Company!" Harrison called out, "We received a report of a power outage in this area. We need to check your electrical box."

Sounds of what seemed like glass breaking were heard inside the dorm, followed by hurried footsteps and the creaking sound of the small building's rear door being swiftly swung open. Franklin hurried along the opposite corner and caught sight of a tall bald white man running out through the opposite side of the farm's potato field.

"Yo, Harrison!" Franklin called out, "I got Marks! He's going out through the back field!"

Harrison sprinted to Franklin's position and he too caught sight of the fleeing Vlado Marks. "Take out your phone and dial nine-one-one", he instructed Franklin, "Then leave the line open. Dispatch will be able to triangulate the GPS signal and roll the Highway Patrol out here."

Franklin did as he was told as Harrison took off on foot after Marks. "Vlado Marks!" he hollered as he withdrew his Sig-Sauer and continued running toward the absconding fugitive, "Police officer! Hold it right there!"

Vlado Marks took a moment to slyly look back at his pursuer. Just as he did so, he abruptly tripped and disappeared from Harrison's view, at which point Harrison sprinted toward the area.

The Chief Detective then reached the spot where Marks had likely fallen. He then noticed that it was actually a large drainage culvert, and unfortunately, Vlado Marks was nowhere to be seen. Harrison then took notice of a nickel-plated Smith and Wesson .38 Model 367 revolver laying discarded in the corner of the culvert, with Marks having dropped it in his haste to escape.

By this point, Franklin caught up to Harrison. "Where'd he go, man?" he asked.

Harrison knelt down to the discarded revolver and sighed. "I don't know", he said, "But it looks like the dumbass left his gun behind."

Harrison stood up and looked Franklin in the eye, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for your help, Franklin" he said, "I appreciate you having my back."

The two men bumped fists once again. "No worries, dog" he said, "You've always had mine."

The sounds of approaching sirens were then heard. "You may want to make your exit, bud" Harrison said, "I'll give a statement to the Highway Patrol guys and get Marks' gun off to the Crime Lab."

"You sure?" Franklin inquired.

"Yeah", Harrison confirmed, "Just go back to the city for now. I'll give you and the others a buzz once I know anything more."

"Alright, man" Franklin replied, "Peace out then."

Harrison watched as Franklin sprinted back toward where he had left his motorcycle waiting.