Page 154 of Montana Manhunt

The funeral director greeted Violet and the others. His gaze dropped to the bulky bandage on her shoulder. “Were you in an accident, Ms. Trevelyan?”

“Something like that.”

On crutches, Rayne stopped beside Violet. “Ready to change?”

She nodded.

Noah and Grant carried their Go bags into the bathroom. “Take your time,” Noah murmured to Violet. “Grant and I will be right outside the door.” The Hansons were no longer a problem, but other people might be, especially Rosalie. Today, Noah’s job was to support Violet in whatever way she needed, including running interference with her cantankerous aunt.

Thirty minutes later, Violet and Rayne exited the bathroom dressed in their standard Fortress uniform of black shirts, cargo pants, and tactical boots.

Grant grabbed their bags. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he murmured to Rayne. “Sit and give your leg a break.”

Noah, Violet, and Rayne walked to the chapel and sat in the front row. Grant and Brent Maddox soon joined them.

Slowly, friends, coworkers, and acquaintances filled the room. Bradley Melton arrived escorting Rosalie Trevelyan. He led her to the front row.

Rosalie paused, her gaze raking over Violet. “Have you no sense of decency?” she hissed.

“Nice to see you, too, Aunt Rosalie.” Violet’s lips curved.

Fury burned in the older woman’s gaze as she took her seat across the aisle from Violet.

Soon, Camilla’s minister walked to the podium, and the service began. When the minister invited Violet to give the eulogy, Rosalie glowered as Noah helped Violet to her feet.

Ignoring the older woman, he whispered to Violet, “Do you want me to stand with you?”

Violet smiled as she shook her head. “I’ve got this.”

She did. His future wife gave a stunning, heartfelt tribute to her sister. By the time she finished, the only dry eyes in the room were Rosalie’s.

When Violet returned to her seat, Noah wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. “Great job.”

The minister returned to the podium to close out the service, and soon the audience exited the room and walked to the graveside.

Following a brief service, Noah escorted Violet to the SUV.

“Violet.”

Noah turned and stepped in front of Violet as Fitz Hanson walked toward them. “What do you want, Hanson?”

Fitz held up his hands as though surrendering. “I just wanted to talk to Violet for a minute.”

Violet rested her small hand on Noah’s lower back. “Let’s hear him out,” she murmured.

“Watch yourself,” Noah warned Fitz. No way would he allow this man to rage at Violet for protecting herself.

“Understood.”

Noah drew Violet to his side. “Two minutes. No more.”

Fitz nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Violet.”

“Did you know that your father and brother were killing women, including Cami?”

“No, I swear. I knew something was off, but I had no clue that Dad and Jeff were serial killers.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Some cop I am,” Fitz muttered.

Violet remained silent for a moment, then said, “You tried to protect me.”

---