“Hi,” Thomas said, his voice soothing and hushed.
Stella immediately stopped crying, looking up at her dad.
“Do you remember me?” Thomas asked. “Can I pick you up?” He reached in and lifted her into the air, taking a look at her while she stared at him. “You’ve grown so much. Practically a young lady now,” he said, hugging her to him. He sniffed once, and Liis hugged them both.
Travis closed the door, kissing my forehead.
“Should we follow Trenton?” Val asked. “Make sure he doesn’t tell the family?”
Travis shook his head, hugging me to his side. “He won’t. He knows he wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Val was unhappy. “You think Giada won’t do something drastic when she finds out Thomas isn’t dead, after all? She’s going to come for him. She’s going to come for all of you.”
“We’ll be ready,” Travis said.
Val narrowed her eyes. “You insane son of a bitch. You put your family through all that, and now, you’re using Thomas as bait?”
I glared at Val. “That’s one hell of an accusation.” I looked at my husband, waiting for him to deny it. He didn’t. “Travis. Tell me it’s not true.”
“You couldn’t get a direct connection with Giada or the wives, so you’re luring them in. You’re hoping they take another shot at Thomas? Or Liis? Are you out of your damn mind?” Val seethed.
“Travis,” I said, unable to say anything else.
“I—” he began, but I turned on my heels to find something to clean in the kitchen. The decision had already been made. I could hear him following closely behind. “Baby,” he said. I stopped at the sink, and he grabbed my arm.
“Faking Thomas’s death was enough, don’t you think? Now, you’re intentionally putting us all at risk? What if they don’t go for Thomas? Or Liis? What if they come for you? What if they come for James or Jess?” I seethed.
“They won’t.”
“How do you know, Travis?”
“I … Pidge, please just trust me.”
“How can I trust you if you’re not being honest?” I turned on the sink and then turned it back off, flipping around to face him. “When were you going to tell me? After our house was sprayed with gunfire?”
“No,” he said, stumbling over his words. I hadn’t been angry with him for a long time, and he was unprepared for my reaction. “But I know who their target will be. We just have to find out when, and that should be soon.”
“Your dad lost Thomas once. What do you think it will do to him if he loses him again?”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?” I yelled, throwing the plate in my hand to the floor. It shattered, prompting Val, Hyde, Thomas, and Liis to rush in.
Travis breathed hard out of his nose. He glanced at Thomas, and then back at me. He was holding back, keeping secrets he didn’t choose to keep. I could see the agony and conflict swirling in his eyes.
“It was my idea,” Thomas blurted out. “It was my way of coming home early and drawing Giada and the wives out at the same time.”
“If something goes wrong,” I began.
“It won’t,” Travis said.
“Don’t” I yelled, closing my eyes, “talk to me.” I glared up at my husband. “Don’t say another word unless it’s the complete truth.”
Travis opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, thinking twice. That only made me angrier, so I turned to grab the broom, hearing Thomas, Liis, and the agents leave the room.
“I love you, Abby. You have to know that. Our family’s safety is my first priority. That’s the truth.” He took the broom and dustpan away from me. The glass scraped against the tile floor as he swept up my mess.
“You know I have your back, but Travis … this is a terrible plan. It feels rushed because Thomas wanted to come home.”
“It’s not rushed, trust me,” he grumbled, bending over to sweep up the glass. “They’ve been working on this since Thomas was well enough to stand.”
“Even Liis?”
“Even Liis.”
“Despite the likelihood of sounding like an insolent child, I’m still going to ask. Why does Liis get to know about these things and I don’t?”
Travis stood, opened the cabinet, and let the glass fall into the trashcan. “She has higher security clearance than you do.”
I frowned. “So now your honesty with your wife is based on security clearance? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Baby,” he said, reaching for me.
I stepped back.
He let his arms fall to his sides in frustration. “This is almost over. Can you be patient just a little longer?”
“Then what? You’re lying to me about the next case?”
Travis sighed, walking away from me, and then coming back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this is our life. The alternative is worse.”
“Have you even asked them, Travis? Have you asked them to let you go? You’ve served your time. You’ve helped them close one of their biggest cases in the history of the Bureau. Enough. It’s not a life sentence.” Travis stared at me, unable to respond. “You don’t want to leave.”
“I love my job, Pidge. When I think about going back and being a personal trainer or having a nine-to-five in some cubicle, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You love your job? More than you love your wife? Your children? Your brothers? Your dad? How many times have you lied to my face? How many times have you put us in danger? I ignored it all because it was part of a deal that would keep you out of prison, but can’t you at least ask?”
“I suddenly realize how Dad must have felt when Mom asked him to quit the police department.”
I arched an eyebrow. “But he did it.”
“She was on her deathbed, Pidge,” he said dismissively.
I reached over to grab his shirt. “If anything happens to our kids because of your need to play cops and robbers, so help me God, Travis.”
“What? You’ll leave? You’re going to leave me because I love my job?”
“That’s not it, and you know it! Don’t you dare twist my words!” Fighting with him was almost an out-of-body experience. We hadn’t argued like this since college.
“I’m not twisting your words! I’m afraid, Pidge. You’ve left me before for a very similar reason.”
“And look. You went and did it anyway. Worked out for you. Now, you’re hoping I’ll keep turning a blind eye, but I won’t. Liis chose this, but we didn’t. I didn’t! I don’t want this for our kids anymore. I don’t want to raise Carter alone while you’re off fighting crime instead of being a father.”
He pointed at the floor. “I’m a good father, Abby.”
“You are. But you’re choosing to keep working a job that takes you away, sometimes for weeks at a time.”
“Okay,” he said, lost in thought. “What if I work out of an office here? In Illinois?”
“Away from the glamorous organized crime unit?”
“I could get transferred. Liis knows people in the Chicago office.”
“No more undercover work?”
“Just regular ol’ investigating.”
I thought about it for a few moments. “After this is over, you promise you’ll put in for a transfer?”
“I promise.”
I nodded slowly, still not sure what my decision was.
Travis walked over to me and wrapped me in his arms, kissing my hair. “Don’t get mad at me. It freaks me the fuck out.”
I pressed my cheek against his chest, wondering if what just happened was compromising or giving in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AMERICA
“CAN YOU STIR THE GRAVY for me, baby?” Shepley asked, putting on oven mitts.
With a wooden spoon, I stirred the brown liquid in the pan, turning to smile at Jim, Jack, and Deana. Shepley’s parents had visited Jim every day since the funeral; sometimes, they would stay for dinner, sometimes not. When Shepley wasn�
�t exhausted after work, we would join them. Tonight, Shepley was making his famous meatloaf, Deana’s recipe—that was, of course, also her late sister’s, Diane’s. Eating was comforting, but especially when the dish reminded him of his wife’s cooking.
Shepley closed the oven. “Almost done.”
“Smells good,” Jim called from the dining room.
My cell phone buzzed, and I fished it out of the back pocket of my shorts. It was a text from Abby.
We’ll be at Jim’s soon. Meet us there.
I tapped out a reply.
Already here. Cooking dinner.
Oh, good. Text me when you’re finished. We’ll wait.
For what?
It took her a bit longer to respond.
Until dinner is over.
There’s enough for everyone but suit yourself.
Trust me. It’s best if everyone eats first.
And what’s that supposed to mean?
See you soon.
I huffed, stuffing my phone back into my pocket.
Shepley glided by, plucking my phone out again and placing it on the counter. “How many times have I told you? Cell phones emit radiation. Do you want colon cancer? Don’t put them in your pockets.”
“Does anyone want colon cancer? What kind of question is that? First, I can’t eat Cheetos, then I have to replace water bottles with glass containers because the bottles heated in the car causes cancer, and now, I can’t put my phone in my pocket. You realize the sun causes cancer, right? Should we become cave dwellers?”
“Which is why I keep buying you that organic sunscreen,” Shepley said, kissing my cheek.
“You’re such a soccer mom,” I grumbled.
“I’ll take it,” he said, leaving me for the dining room table.
I teased him, but I knew he feared going through the same thing his Uncle Jim and his mom had when they lost Diane. Once we had Ezra, he began reading about everything that could kill us and started forbidding us from eating certain things. He did it out of love, and of course, he was right, but pretending to be annoyed softened the frightening reality. We were getting older, and a few of our friends had already been diagnosed. Sometimes, it felt like the whole world was dying.
The front door swung open, and Taylor walked through, holding one of his kids in each arm. Falyn was behind him, carrying the luggage.
“Hey!” Shepley, Jim, and Jack said in unison. Shepley helped Jim to stand, and they bear hugged Taylor and the kids, then Falyn, with Tyler, Ellie, and Gavin not far behind.
“Oh, my God!” Taylor yelled. “It smells amazing in here!”
I turned the stove fire to low and wiped my hand on my apron, leaving the kitchen to hug the family. After everyone had said their hellos, Jim glanced around the room. “Where’s Trenton?”
Tyler shrugged. “He hasn’t been by today? I thought he’d be here. That’s what he said earlier.”
“I’ll text him,” Taylor said, pulling his phone from his back pocket.
I smirked at Shepley, gesturing to Taylor, and he rolled his eyes.
“I’m not married to Taylor, am I?” he said.
Everyone turned to my husband, and I snorted.
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Eh?”
“Nothing,” Shepley grumbled.
Falyn glanced around the room. “Is Olive not coming for dinner?”
“They’re on vacation this week,” Jim said.
Falyn’s face fell. “Oh.”
Jim looked at his watch. “They should be getting home later this evening.”
Falyn’s eyes brightened. “Oh! Well, that’s … I’m really glad. I’ve missed her.”
Jim nodded in understanding. We all knew Falyn looked forward to seeing Olive when she was in town, even if Olive had no idea she was actually part of the family instead of just Trenton’s best friend.
We chatted about their flight from Colorado and Taylor and Tyler’s new jobs at State Farm Insurance. Shepley couldn’t resist making a joke about the State Farm khakis commercial. Ellie reminisced about working for the MountainEar magazine in Estes, and Falyn and the kids had just unpacked the last box back at home with Taylor.
The oven door creaked as Shepley opened it to pull out the meatloaf pan, I mashed the potatoes, and Ellie and Falyn set up the card table for the kids. Dining chairs scraped against the tile as the adults sat down at the dining table to eat.
Jim looked around. “Hasn’t Trenton gotten home yet? Is Travis still out of town?”
I touched his arm. “We texted Trent. I’m pretty sure Travis is flying home today.”
Jim shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.
Jack patted his brother’s back. “They’re fine, Jim.”
I tried not to grimace. Thomas’s death had taken a toll on Jim. His clothes were hanging off him, purple half-moons hung under his tired eyes, and he looked more frail than ever. He was constantly asking about the boys, calling each one every day to check on them if they didn’t call him first. Most of them already knew to call during their lunch break to set his mind at ease.
Taylor checked his phone, chewing. “He texted back. He’s at home. He can’t make dinner tonight.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. That wasn’t like Trenton. He was at Jim’s for dinner every night, even before the funeral.
Agent Wren approached the table.
“Wren,” Tyler said between bites. “Have a seat. Have some meatloaf; it’s my mom’s recipe. Best damn meatloaf you’ve ever had, I promise you that.”
“I don’t know why we’re cooking,” Falyn said. “There are still stacks of casseroles in the freezer.”
“Because your dad wanted Diane’s meatloaf,” Shepley said. “And what Jim wants, Jim gets.”
Jim managed a smile, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Camille had bought him suspenders a few days before, and although Jim wasn’t a fan, I thought he looked adorable.
Agent Wren touched his earpiece. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I asked. “Who is that?”
Agent Wren ignored me, returning to his post in the living room. I glared at him, far beyond irritated with the secrecy. What else didn’t we know? I glanced at my husband. “Why is he still here?”
“Who? Wren?” Shepley asked.
“What was that about? Are we”—I glanced back at the kids and then leaned in—“still in danger? Have we heard an update on where Travis is with the Carlisi case?”
Jim shook his head, picking at his plate.
“Not hungry?” Deana asked.
“It’s very good,” Jim said, looking apologetic. “I feel full pretty fast these days. No appetite, I suppose.”
“Just try,” Deana said. “It’s Diane’s,” she lilted. “God, I miss her. I think she could’ve cheered you up.”
“She could’ve,” Jim said with a short chuckle. His smile faded. “She’s with Tommy, now.”
We finished dinner, and I served dessert—just a simple yellow sheet cake with chocolate frosting. The kids made the few pieces that were left disappear.
The front door swung open. “Hi, Maddoxes!” Olive said, appearing at the mouth of the hallway with her bright smile. She had a new bronze tan from her trip, making her teeth appear whiter and her freckles blend in. Her hair was even blonder than before, and Falyn beamed the moment she set eyes on her.
“Olive!” Falyn said, rushing over to hug her tight. She held her out at arm’s length. “Holy crap, you look amazing. How was vacation?”
“It was good. Sort of sad. Mom acts like it’s our last one. I keep telling her we’ll have plenty, but she’s a wreck.” Olive pulled at the frayed edges of her shorts. She was wearing a white tank top and a flowing, short-sleeved kimono-esque top. We marveled at what a beautiful young woman she’d grown into. Woe to boys at Eastern who paid any attention to her—the Maddoxes would eat them for lunch. She’d already given up bringing home any boys to Trenton in high school. He was just too scary for any teenage boy to handle.
&nb
sp; The twins and their wives had just finished cleaning off the table, and Jessica, James, and Ezra were nearly finished loading the dishwasher when everyone grew silent. The younger kids were just bugging us to play outside in the sprinkler when Wren began looking out the window and speaking in hushed tones into his earpiece.
“Keep the kids inside for now,” Wren said to Shepley.
I helped him herd the kids into the kitchen, away from any window facing the street.
“Has Trenton changed his mind?” Taylor asked, frowning. He checked his phone again, and then set it on the counter.
A car engine grew louder outside, and I pulled Eli and Emerson closer.
“I’ve been instructed to ask you all to remain calm,” Wren said. He glanced at Jessica and James. “We’ve got incoming.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Shepley asked.
“Travis and Liis are in the drive,” Wren said, irritated that he’d had to explain that much.
We all relaxed, waiting for a signal from Wren. None of us knew what was going on, but we were so used to being kept in the dark, it didn’t seem so abnormal anymore to wait for something to happen.
The front door opened, and Travis, Abby, and Liis walked in, followed by Agent Hyde and Val. The door closed, and the moment Travis stepped into the kitchen, he was apologizing.
“Just, please hear me out. This is going to be difficult, and at first, you won’t understand, but you will.”
“What’s going on, Trav—” Shepley began, and then Thomas stepped out from behind Agent Hyde.
A collective gasp filled the room.
Jim immediately began to whimper, and then he hobbled to his son, falling into Thomas’s arms. The kids began to wail, and Hollis ran over, hugging his Papa and Uncle Thomas. Ellie and Falyn both covered their mouths, their cheeks wet with tears.
“You lied?” Shepley cried, consoling his parents.
“Why?” Tyler choked out.
“I don’t care why,” Taylor said, rushing to hug his brother. Tyler did the same, and then we all crowded around Thomas, hugging him and sobbing.
The living room was quiet except for the hushed humming of the ceiling fan and the hiss of the sprinkler outside. We comforted the kids and promised to explain later, sending them upstairs to play. They were hesitant but knew the grown-ups needed to sort it all out.
A Beautiful Funeral: A Novel (Maddox Brothers Book 5) Page 21