The drive from Cohoes back to Albany and to Washington Avenue Extension all the way on the far west side of the city takes twenty minutes. I haven’t said a lot during the ride since my stomach is still doing flips. Now that we’re about to enter into another funeral home, I can’t say I’m exactly excited about the idea. But I agreed to sign on for the duration of this tour, so rather than turn tail and face yet another dishonorable cop discharge, I do the right thing and suck it all up.
The parking lot is filled to the gills which means Miller has no choice but to park on the grassy meridian in the center of the lot.
“I’m a cop,” he says, turning off the engine. “They can make an exception for me.”
We get out and approach the main entrance to the white stucco, single story structure. Th
