Over seven hundred people attended the combined funeral of the fallen Glasgow Creek murder victims. They spilled out onto the lawn of First United Baptist, which was the only one in town large enough to be up to the task. Folks came from all over the town, few came from the county (mostly feeds) and even from the neighboring towns. People who had never so much as met one of them. The viewing line before the eight ivory caskets stretched far beyond the parking lot and took more than two hours.
It was a hell of a thing, seeing all those caskets draped with roses and daisies and closed so tightly. One of them with the old detective Larsson inside.
It didn't make sense that he could be dead. That he could be killed, and be killed in such a violent way, just lying there in the woods without fighting. None of the victims ever seemed to put up a fight.
