The stranger moved with a slow stride, carrying a heavy canvas tote bag in one hand, slipping through the gap in the side gate. Daniel waited thirty seconds, quietly opened his truck door, and followed. He moved silently between the headstones. As he rounded the large granite mausoleum sixty feet from Emma’s plot, he saw the hooded figure.
The stranger was kneeling in the damp grass directly in front of Emma’s headstone, his head bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the granite. His shoulders were trembling slightly, and Daniel could hear a low, rhythmic murmur, a frantic, hushed whisper, as if the person were talking directly to the earth.