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CHAPTER 39

YUKI STOOD UP to let me into the aisle when Pastor Elliot called my name. I was unnerved by the gravity of the day, but when she put her hand on my back, I knew that I was at the right place and time and with Jacobi’s friends.

I stood at the altar and began: “I’m Lindsay Boxer. I am so very lucky to have known Warren Jacobi. Since my first week on the force, he was my teacher and my partner—even when I was promoted and he officially reported to me. He was always confident that I had the right skills, and he made sure that I knew it, too. At all times, we had mutual trust and were true friends.

“Our friendship was formed in a patrol car. We talked about why we had become cops, mistakes we had made, and what we were expected to do in our jobs and how that work made us better and stronger people.

“We talked about what it meant to be a good cop. And looking out at all the dark uniforms filling this church, I know that we’ve all experienced the feeling of being called to this way of life. Your senses become so sharp, they’re superpowers. You see things before they happen. You’d step in front of a loaded gun to save a partner, or a bystander, or a victim cornered behind the cleaning supplies in a grocery store.

“But of all the time Jacobi and I spent together, one time that wasn’t on the job stands out and will never be forgotten.

“Joe Molinari and I were getting married, and my father wasn’t there.”

I stopped, steadying myself, wanting to phrase it to just tell the important parts, to not dwell on my father at all.

I said, “I was dressed in my wedding gown. My dear friends, my maids of honor, were all there, too. Joe was in the wings, waiting to join with me in what the future held for us. Though I knew better than to count on my father, I’d still hoped he would show up. He’d told my sister, Cat, that he was coming to the wedding, so I’d assumed he would be there to walk me down the aisle.

“He wasn’t.

“Dr. Claire Washburn offered to give me away, but it was Yuki Castellano who came up with the idea to ask Warren Jacobi to stand in for my father. She asked Jacobi to walk me down the aisle, and my God, he did it. He set the pace and put his hand on mine and handed me off to our minister. And Joe and I got married in a gazebo overlooking Half Moon Bay.

“Unlike my actual father, Jacobi was always there. And not only for me but also for every recruit and colleague. He was there for those who’d lost their way because of a bad bust, or a trial that didn’t end in a conviction, or any of the many disappointments that arise when a person runs up against something too big to handle alone and needs a good friend, a wise soul. A hero.”

I paused and looked over at Muriel. “Jacobi … How can I say this? He radiated happiness when he and Muriel fell in love. And seeing how happy that made my dear friend made me radiate happiness, too. Muriel, I’m so, so sorry that we lost him.”

I pictured Jacobi’s terrible wounds, his bleeding body curled into a fetal tuck by the Lily Pond in Golden Gate Park. I wanted to say, Muriel, we’ll find out who did this, I swear we will . But even as I was gripped by the impulse, I kept that part to myself. Instead, I said this:

“Joseph Campbell once wrote, ‘A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.’

“Muriel, Jacobi was a hero. In every way. And our memories of him will live on in all of us who knew him.”