A Beautiful Funeral

by Jamie McGuire

  "Better," I said.

  "Don't bullshit me, Maddox."

  "Never, Agent Lindy."

  After a few minutes, Hyde returned, holstering her sidearm. "All clear, sir."

  "Thank you," I said, following Liis inside.

  Liis took a deep breath as she crossed the threshold, already feeling more at ease. I carried Stella's car seat into the nursery, setting it gently on the floor. Liis had decorated in grays, blue-grays, tans, and coral with not a bow or ballerina in sight. Liis was determined to keep Stella as gender-neutral as possible, even before she was born. An ivory upholstered rocking chair was in the corner next to the crib, a square pillow of a fox outlined in blue in the center.

  I unbuckled Stella, lifted her limp body into my arms, and then lay her on her back in the crib. She looked so tiny within the walls of her brand-new bed.

  Everything was new--the carpet, the Santa Fe-style rug, the five-by-seven portrait of a cartoon fox on the side table, the curtains, the paint on the walls. Until that moment, the room had been beautiful and pristine but empty. Now, it was filled with our love for the brand-new baby for whom the room belonged.

  After staring at Stella for a moment, Liis and I traded glances.

  "Now what?" she whispered.

  I adjusted the nursery camera and signaled for Liis to follow me out into the hall. I shrugged.

  She shrugged too. "What does"--she shrugged again--"this mean?"

  "It means I don't know. I was expecting chaos and crying when we got home. You know ... all the horrible things you see in the movies."

  Liis smiled and leaned against the doorjamb. "She's perfect, isn't she?"

  "I'll reserve judgment until two o'clock this morning, or the first time she shits in my hand."

  Liis playfully elbowed me. I kissed her temple.

  "I think I'll lie down for a bit," Liis said, reaching for the monitor.

  I swiped it off the dresser first. "I've got it. You rest."

  She pushed up on the balls of her feet, kissed the corner of my mouth, and then touched my cheek. "I'm so happy, Thomas. I never thought I could feel like this. It's hard to explain."

  I smiled down at her. "You don't have to. I know just how you feel."

  Liis ambled down the hall to our bedroom, leaving the door cracked open about three inches.

  I chuckled to myself as I headed to the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to unload the dishes Liis had just started when her water broke.

  My cell phone buzzed in my pants pocket, and I fished it out, holding it to my ear. "Maddox." I listened, walked over to the window, and moved the curtains to the side. My heart sank.

  "You're not serious," I said. I listened as the director gave me instructions that made my blood run cold. "The plan is to let them shoot at me?"

  "They've already taken a shot at Travis."

  "What? Is he okay?" I asked, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

  "Just grazed his shoulder and he's a little banged up. They ran his car off the road." The director cleared his throat, uncomfortable having to say his next words. "It was meant for Abby."

  I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. "How do you know?"

  "Travis was driving her SUV. Surveillance of all soft targets was in the shooter's vehicle, including Abby."

  "By soft targets, you mean ..."

  "The members of your family, Thomas. I'm very sorry."

  I blew out a breath, trying to remain calm. If they had surveillance photos, the Carlisis had Travis figured out for a while. They'd been watching my family; close enough to photograph. That explained Travis's interrogation in Vegas. What we thought was Travis somehow blowing his cover leading to an impromptu kidnapping and beating while they tried to get more intel was actually planned. "Have they been located?"

  The director paused. "Travis's SUV hit a tree at a high rate of speed. They came back to finish it, but they didn't walk away. The Carlisi family is now three made men down. Bobby the Fish. Nikko the Mule. Vito Carlisi."

  "Benny's son. That means the Carlisis only have two possible successors left." Benny had seven children but only three sons. The oldest, Angelo, was the underboss, with the other two in line for the job. Benny was old school, and he'd passed onto his children and his crime family that only men could inherit his illicit empire. I was hopeful that if their attempts left them without a Carlisi underboss, everything Benny built would fall apart.

  "Travis took care of it," the director said.

  "Of course, he did." My muscles relaxed. What could have been a huge clusterfuck was actually falling in our favor. I should have known. Once someone takes a swing at Travis, he always made sure they wouldn't do it again. Even if they were three of the Carlisi family's best hitmen.

  "The youngest of the Carlisi boys, Vincenzo, and two soldiers have been traced to a silver Nissan Altima. They're headed your way now. They are likely aware of Vito's death by now."

  "Coming here? Now?" I asked, looking back toward Stella's nursery. "What about stray bullets? Ricochets? We're going to let them do a drive-by in front of my home with my wife and daughter inside? This seems sloppy, sir."

  "Can you think of another plan in the next eight minutes?"

  I frowned. "No, sir."

  "Hyde will have Liis and Stella secured in the back of the home with vests. This is our one chance. It's up to you, of course, but--"

  "Understood, sir."

  "You're sure?"

  "You're right. It has to happen this way. It'll buy us time."

  "Thank you, Agent Maddox."

  "Thank you, Director."

  The bedroom door cracked open, and from my peripheral, I could see Liis leaning against the doorjamb, holding her cell phone to her ear. They had called her, too.

  "But we just ... they can't possibly know--" She sighed. "I understand. Of course, and I agree, but ... yes, sir. I understand, sir." She looked at me with tears in her eyes, clearing her throat before speaking again. "Consider it done, sir."

  The phone fell from her hand to the floor, and her eyes lost focus. I rushed across the room to cradle her in my arms. I meant to be gentle, but I knew I was holding her too tight.

  "I can't believe this is happening," she said, her voice muffled against my chest. Her fingers dug into my back.

  "If there was any other way," I began.

  "Travis is okay?" she asked. She had already been briefed, I was sure, but she needed to hear it from me. I wouldn't sugarcoat it just because she was a new mother, and she knew it.

  "He's a little banged up. They're three goons short."

  She breathed out a laugh and then lifted her chin, her eyes wide and glossing over with realization. "I'm going to have to tell them, aren't I? It will have to be me."

  I hesitated, conflicted feelings swirling inside me. I didn't want to put her through that. My eyebrows pulled in. "The Carlisis will just send more, Liis. I know it's a long shot ... but you have to."

  She shook her head. "I can't. I ...."

  I clenched my teeth, trying to keep it together and stay strong for her. I cupped her jaw in my hands. "It'll be okay. You can do it."

  Her chest caved, and she puffed out a breath. "How can I do that to them?" She touched her forehead, shaking her head in disbelief.

  "We do what we have to do. Like we always have."

  Liis glanced back toward the nursery. "But this time, even more is at stake."

  I checked my watch and sighed. "I have to pack and make some calls."

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. "I'll help you."

  Stella began to fuss, and I nearly lost it. "This is too much. This isn't right, leaving you alone with her. She's barely a day old, and you here, alone ..."

  She hugged me. "I won't be alone."

  I squeezed my arms around her, breathing in her hair, memorizing the softness of her skin. "I can't ... I can't tell her goodbye," I said. I'd had my heart broken more than once, but this was torture. I was already in love with the tiny
girl in the crib, and leaving her would be the hardest thing I would ever do.

  "So don't."

  I nodded and then crept into the nursery, watching Stella breathe easily, swaddled and happily dreaming of whatever newborns dreamed of--Liis's heartbeat; my muffled voice. I leaned down and pressed my lips to her thick, dark hair. "I'll see you soon, my love. Daddy loves you."

  I walked across the room and reached down for my vest, slipping it on as she watched with a pained expression, then I stuffed some clothes and toiletries into a bag and raised my phone, tapping out Trenton's number. I tried to keep my voice casual while telling him to expect us sooner than originally planned. In less than five minutes, I'd done everything I could do to prepare.

  "Who's out there?" Liis asked when I hung up with Trenton.

  "Dustin Johns and Canton," I said, putting on a light jacket.

  "Brent Canton?" she confirmed. When I nodded, she sighed, relieved. They were the best snipers in the Bureau.

  "They'd better not miss," she snapped.

  "They won't," I said. I hoped not. I was putting my life in their hands. I took Liis into my arms, holding her tight, and then pressed my lips against hers, hoping it wasn't for the last time. "I'm going to ask you to marry me when we see each other again, and this time, you're going to say yes."

  "Make sure we see each other again," she said.

  Hyde opened the front door. "Thirty seconds, sir."

  I nodded to her, grabbed my car keys, and glanced back at Liis, taking one last look before closing the door behind me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  TAYLOR

  "CHEER UP, BUD. I bet she'll be at the house by shift's end," Jubal said, watching me fold laundry.

  "You've said that every shift since she left," I grumbled, shaking out a pair of standard-issue navy blue cargo pants. The color was fading.

  When Falyn did the laundry, she somehow kept them looking brand new for months. I cooked dinner and took out the trash; she'd do the laundry and the dishes. We tag-teamed taking care of the kids. Having Hollis and Hadley four months apart was a lot like having twins. One of us held down flailing legs and pulled out baby wipes while the other cleaned and re-diapered. I'd take Hollis to soccer, and she would take Hadley to volleyball. For nine years, we'd worked like a well-oiled machine. We'd even perfected fighting. Anger, negotiation, make-up sex. Now that she was gone, I had no one to compromise with, no kids to juggle, no dinner for four. I'd been doing my own laundry for two months--since she'd moved back to Colorado Springs with the kids--and my pants were already looking like shit. One more reason to miss her.

  I folded the cargos over a hanger and hooked it on the rod inside my armoire. I hadn't been on the mountain digging firebreaks in four years. Only being home for six months out of the year had taken its toll on our marriage, so I hung up my pulaski and took a full-time job with the city fire department.

  In the end, it didn't matter what I did. Falyn wasn't happy.

  "How are the kids liking the new school?" Jubal asked.

  "They're not."

  Jubal sighed. "I wondered if it would be tough for Hollis. I'm surprised you let her take him."

  "Split 'em up? No," I said, shaking my head. "Besides, she's his mother. She always has been. It wouldn't be right to pull the biological card now."

  Jubal nodded. "True." He patted my shoulder. "You're a good man, Taylor."

  My brow furrowed. "Not good enough."

  My cell phone rang. I held the receiver to my ear, and Jubal nodded, already knowing I needed privacy. He walked back into the living area, and I swiped my thumb across the display, holding the phone to my ear.

  "Hi, honey," I said.

  "Hi." Falyn was uncomfortable with terms of endearment now--as if I shouldn't care about her because she'd left me.

  The truth was I'd tried yelling. I'd tried being angry. I begged and pleaded and even threw tantrums, but all that did was push her further away. Now, I listened more and lost my temper less. Something my brothers had all learned early on. They still had their wives.

  "I was just thinking about you," I said.

  "Oh, yeah?" she asked. "I was calling because ... Hollis isn't doing well. He got in a fight today."

  "A fistfight? Is he okay?"

  "Of course, he's okay. You taught him how to defend himself. But he's different. He's angry. Thank God it was the last day before summer break or he would have been suspended. He still might. Taylor, I think ..." She sighed. She sounded as lost as I did, and it was both painful and a relief not to be alone in that. "I think I made a mistake."

  I held my breath, hoping she would finally say she was coming home. It didn't matter why. Once Falyn came back, I could make things right.

  "I was hoping ... maybe ..."

  "Yeah? I mean, yeah. Whatever it is."

  She paused again. Those in-between moments felt like dying a thousand times. Her voice said it all. She knew when she'd called she'd be getting my hopes up, but this conversation was about the kids, not me. Not us. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind helping me find a rent house in Estes. You have more connections there for housing than I do. It's going to be hard to find a three-bedroom apartment. The kids are too old to share."

  I sat down on my bed, feeling like the air had been knocked out of me. "Couldn't you just ... move back in? The kids' rooms are all set up. It's familiar. I'd love for you to come back. I want you to. It doesn't have to mean anything more than if you got your own place. I'll sleep on the couch."

  The other end of the line was quiet for a long time. "I can't, Taylor." She sounded tired. Her voice was deeper than usual; ragged.

  I'd begged before. It would only start another fight. This was about our children. I had to put us aside. "Falyn ... move back into the house with the kids. I'll find an apartment."

  "No. I'm the one who left. I'll find a place."

  "Baby," I began. I could feel her discomfort through the phone. "Falyn. The house is yours. I'll let the school know they'll be back next year."

  "Really?" she asked, her voice breaking.

  "Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "It doesn't make sense for me to live in that big house alone and you and the kids crammed into an apartment."

  "Thank you." She sniffed. "The kids will be so happy."

  "Good," I said, forcing a smile. I wasn't sure why. She couldn't see me. "Good, I'm glad."

  She puffed out a breath of relief, and scuffing sounds against the phone had me imagining she was wiping away tears. "Okay, then. I'll, um ... I'll start packing."

  "Need help? Let me help you." The apartment she'd found in Colorado Springs was furnished, so there wouldn't be much heavy furniture, but I was desperate to return to our well-oiled machine.

  "No, we can do it. We don't have much. There's nothing too heavy."

  "Falyn. At least let me help pack up the kids. I haven't seen them in two weeks."

  She thought about it for a moment, sniffing again. I imagined her weighing the pros and cons. She had to think about her choices longer these days, her decisions made only after having more information--something I had to start doing, too. I half-expected her to say she would think about it and call back, but she answered. "Okay."

  "Okay?"

  "I was considering telling the kids tonight. Do you want to be here when I do? I'm not sure if that would be confusing for them ..."

  "I'll be there," I said without hesitation. Some things required less thinking than others.

  We hung up, and I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I didn't dare say to her what I wanted. I'd held in the hope that once she was back we could really start to work on what went wrong. This time, I would promise not to push too hard or move too fast--I would show her I had changed.

  I gripped the phone with both hands and held it to my forehead, silently chanting to keep it together and not ruin it this time. Nothing was more frightening than being your own worst enemy. Even when I wanted to do the right thing, it was a struggle. I had
always lived by my emotions, and those close to me experienced the blowback. They saw the pressure build and the discharge, even if it only lasted for a few seconds in the form of rage. After years went by--and I hadn't learned or grown or made an effort to overcome it--the forgiveness came less easily for Falyn, and I couldn't blame her.

  "You off the phone?" Jubal asked. I lifted my head and nodded, working hard to keep the suffering off my face. "The commander wants a word."

  I wiped my nose with my wrist and stood, taking a deep breath. My muscles were tense. I knew what was coming. The commander had been in meetings all morning with the other shift commanders, the chief, and the city council--all about me.

  "Taylor?" Jubal said as I passed him.

  "Yeah?" I turned around to face him, annoyed. He'd interrupted my emotional preparation for what would go down in the commander's office.

  "You need to take that temper and dial it down a few notches before walking in there. You're in enough trouble as it is. You're definitely not going to get her back without a job."

  "It doesn't matter. Nothing has gone right for me since she left."

  Jubal made a face, unimpressed with my shameless self-pity. "If you'd stop spending so much time placing blame, you might free up your head and your heart to think of a solution."

  I thought about his words and nodded, taking a deep breath. Jubal was right, as usual.

  The commander was on the phone when I knocked and came in. He lifted his index finger, and then directed me to sit in one of the two orange chairs positioned in front of his desk.

  I did as he instructed, lacing my fingers together on top of my stomach and bobbing my knee. That office hadn't changed much since he'd taken over; the same pictures hung from the walls and tacks on various corkboards held informational posters around the room. The paneling gave away the building's age, as did the stained carpet and worn furniture. The only things different were a framed picture on the desk, the man sitting on the other side of it, and the nameplate in front of him.

  COMMANDER TYLER MADDOX

  "You rang?" I asked when he hung up the phone on its cradle. I grabbed the picture of us with Dad, all standing side by side, our arms around each other and happy. Thomas almost looked out of place, without tattoos and longer, lighter hair, and hazel green eyes as opposed to shit brown like the rest of us.

  "Anyone else looking at this picture must think Tommy belongs to the milkman. Only people who know us recognize that he looks like Mom."