A Beautiful Funeral (The Maddox Brothers 5)

Hyde was right. The Carlisi’s matriarch could be considered even more dangerous than Benny was. She stayed in the background, but she had ordered many of the hits, via whisperings in her husband’s ear. “It will either break her or resolve her to finish this.” I nodded, reaching for my phone.

“Agent Lindy,” Hyde said, taking a step forward. When I froze, she continued. “I can contact the director if you’d like to notify him of Giada.”

“Oh, right,” I said, setting down my phone. The Carlisis thought I was a grieving widow. If there was a trace or mole or any other intel being given to the Carlisis—which we could only assume since they’d known Thomas’s exact location, and later found out Travis’s—I had to be careful. Only a small handful of people knew that Thomas was alive. It made sense to have protection and to be moved from our home to a safe location, but if I was making calls to the director about anything other than my anger over what had happened to Thomas, it could tip them off.

“We need to find who or what they’re using for the info,” I said.

“We’re on it.”

“Do we have a lead?”

“Agent Lindy, the baby is sleeping. My sister always naps when the baby is sleeping. It’s about the only time she—”

“Okay,” I said. “You’re right.”

Hyde seemed surprised at my response but quickly recovered, stripping the bed and remaking it with the clean sheets, pillow, and blanket in the time it took me to take a shower. I plodded to the bed in house shoes, unwilling for my bare feet to touch the crusty carpet.

I lay down, smelling the slightest hint of lavender. Hyde noticed me looking around and sniffing.

Hyde shifted her weight, and her face flushed. She was noticeably uncomfortable with my unasked question. “I asked Hawkins to track down a couple of air freshener plug-ins. Your home smells a little like lavender, so I thought it’d make you feel more at ease. Just a couple. If it’s too much for the baby …”

“No,” I said with an appreciative smile. “No, that was very thoughtful of you.”

“It was Agent Taber who suggested them.”

“Val,” I said with a smile, but then my eyes began leaking again.

“She’ll be on the first flight. She insisted on accompanying you to Illinois.”

“Thank you,” I said, already feeling desperate to see my closest friend.

Hyde didn’t smile or show much of a response, but even that made me feel comforted because I was used to that with my mother. She showed her love in what she did for me. My father was the affectionate and animated one. Maybe that was why the director had chosen Hyde as my personal security. Besides being one of the Bureau’s best drivers and best with a pistol, she was also somehow maternal.

I rested my head against the pillow. It also smelled a bit like lavender, and I had to wonder if Hyde had spritzed it to further help me relax. I wouldn’t ask. I didn’t want to embarrass her again.

I watched Stella breathe, the buttons on her footie pajamas rising and falling. She looked so peaceful. I wondered if she missed Thomas’s voice, or if she knew this wasn’t where we belonged. I didn’t realize I was crying again until the pillowcase felt wet, and I closed my eyes, begging myself to relax enough to get some rest. Stella would be awake soon, and I couldn’t take care of her if I didn’t take care of myself. We were leaving for a different location in the morning, and Eakins the morning after that. I would need all of my strength to break over a dozen hearts.

“Hyde? Will you be there tomorrow? In Eakins?”

“Where you go, I go, Agent Lindy.”

“Can you tell whoever you need to tell to call Thomas? Tell him I love him?”

“I will.”

I felt my muscles melt into the mattress, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

FALYN

THE PACKING TAPE made a high-pitched noise when it pulled from the roll, and I froze. Our only television was on in the living room down the hall, and I listened through the muted conversation between SpongeBob and Patrick Star for footsteps padding toward the closed door of my bedroom. I’d wanted to get a head start on packing but wanted Taylor there when we broke the good news to the kids. I smiled because they would be so happy. But my smile soon faded. Any misery they’d felt the past few months was my fault.

The wall was paneled except for one section, revealing the sheetrock behind it. The bed was a king but not nearly as comfortable as the queen I left behind. Our quilt didn’t quite reach across the mattress, but it had gotten me through a particularly snowy Colorado winter. A picture of Taylor with the kids sat on the night table. Even though Taylor didn’t share my bed, I still slept on the same side I’d chosen after we’d moved in together. Hadley would sometimes crawl into Taylor’s side in the middle of the night, but other than that, it stayed empty.

Hollis and Hadley were so close in age that they were able to start pre-school together, and now, they had just finished the second grade. Looking at Hollis’s dark hair, bronze skin, and blue eyes was like looking at Alyssa, the woman Taylor had met in California during the week we’d broken up. As angry as I was when I learned he’d gotten another woman pregnant, the night Taylor and Alyssa spent together made Hollis possible, and I wouldn’t trade my son for anything. Hadley was the spitting image of me except for her warm chocolate irises. She kept her wavy blond hair long, and she had the same splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

Neither of them had looked at me much since we moved from Estes Park to Colorado Springs. Hadley was a bit more forgiving than Hollis. Sometimes, she would even forget how angry she was with me, and I’d get a hug or even an evening of snuggling on the couch while we watched a movie, but Hollis took every opportunity to remind me how I was ruining his life. It was becoming more difficult to argue with him. He’d had trouble making friends, but everyone in Estes Park loved him. He was picked first for teams, charmed the girls, and sang like the star of a boy band. In the Springs, he was the new kid who was a threat to the established class hierarchy.

Second grade was a lot different than I remembered.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up, expecting an update from Taylor. Instead, it was Peter. I still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten my number, but he was incessant. I still wasn’t sure if it was my fault the night we met; if I had looked in his direction too long or absently smiled at him. Men like him thought every woman who laughed at a single joke was begging to be fucked. So, no. It wasn’t my fault. He was raised with privilege and without accountability. He’d graduated from a rich pansy-ass snot rag to the rapey egomaniac otherwise known as Mayor Lacy’s son. Peter had his eye on me from the moment we stepped into the bar to celebrate Jubal’s promotion to lieutenant. Taylor and I didn’t get out much, and I wanted to make the most of the babysitter we’d procured on late notice.