Michael stands atop a hill overlooking the ceremony of his love, Lind McKay. He could not face the McKays himself, but he still had to pay his respects, even if from afar. Tears come to his eyes as the wind whips around him while person after person lays white roses upon the coffin of Linda McKay. His sister, Deborah, follows up by placing the locket he gave to her upon the casket. A request of his to his sister.
“My heart goes with you, my love,” he murmurs to himself as a detective of the Storm City Police Department comes to his side.
“Here.” he says placing the ring in Michael’s hand. “I though you might want this.”
“Thank you, Trevor,” he says to the dark haired detective as he places sunglasses over his now light sensitive eyes.
“I promise you, Michael, we will find Linda’s killers.”
“You better get to them before I do.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Michael,” he tells the angry, heart broken young man.
“Hey, it’s me.” Michael says sarcastically with a huge grin.
“That’s why I warned you.” Trevor says to his friend. “This may be bigger than you think. Your curiosity tends to ruffle feathers.”
“Fine, Trevor.” Michael responds unenthusiastically. “I’ll leave it alone. For now.”
“I promise to keep you informed.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
Trevor, then, turns and walks down the hill over to the road where his car, a 1997 silver Chevrolet Malibu, was located. Michael hears the motor turn as he watches the funeral attendees leave. As the Malibu leaves the cemetery, Deborah looks up atop the hill where she thought someone was standing earlier. Then, she hears the roar of a motorcycle.
What are you up to Michael?