Liz went still, and I tightened my grip on her. She stared at the officer as if he had two heads. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, and I didn’t blame her when she dug her nails into my arm.
“How?” she asked the officer.
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. I was told to notify his next of kin.” The officer jumped back into the squad car, peeling off as quickly as he could.
“Gerry…dead,” she whispered. The gates opened, swallowing her words.
I helped her walk into the yard. Her shuffle was more pronounced without her brace, but I wouldn’t let her fall.
***
Elizabeth
Gerry was dead.
I stumbled, but Thunder made sure I didn’t fall as we continued through the lot, toward where my nieces stood on the porch. Grace was the first to move. She walked down the stairs, dragging her feet as if she knew what was coming and was prolonging the inevitable.
Meredith didn’t move. She’d already detached herself from the situation.
I stopped, tightening my hold on Thunder, but the black veil came down quickly. My body wobbled, and all I could do was grip his arm, hoping I didn’t crash into the dirt.
“Auntie.” I could still remember the tremble in Grace’s voice as I tried to explain. “I don’t understand.”
“Jesus Christ, Grace. Your mother is gone. She’s not coming back,” Gerry bellowed as he paced the length of the living room. He was mourning his wife, but Grace was smart. She curled up in the corner of the couch, making herself as small as possible.
“She’s not coming home, Auntie?” I told her no, but that we’d do our best to honor her memory. No one was ever going to replace Madalyn. She hugged me as tightly as she could, but over her head, I saw Meredith standing in the doorway. She held her blanket tight to her chest, and I couldn’t remember hearing her little voice.
I passed Grace over to Gerry, dropping to my knees in front of Meredith. She was only five, and I tried to soften the blow. I told her Madalyn was gone. She still said nothing, and when I went to hug her, she ran to her bedroom.
As the veil lifted, their faces morphed into the women they’d become, but their expressions remained the same as when they were little.
Grace’s cheeks were wet with tears as she wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s gone?”
All I could do was nod. I didn’t hesitate to believe the policeman. Gerry was dead.
Meredith stood next to Grace. “I told you he was going to die.” Those were the last words I heard from her for the next few days.
Chapter 31
Choosing Happiness
Elizabeth
The police officer left, and I held the girls for the rest of the night. We lay on my bed, our arms wrapped around each other until the early hours of the next morning. Once the clock turned eight, Grace and I got to work. I sat with her in the clubhouse’s kitchen as she booked the funeral home and ordered flowers. I didn’t have the paperwork for the cemetery, but Grace worked with them. She didn’t break until the arrangements were done.
We were going to make the four-hour trip south to bury Gerry next to Madalyn.
Not knowing what to expect, Sabre had asked the regular club members not to attend the funeral. The clubhouse was a safer bet, since he wasn’t sure someone wouldn’t take advantage, knowing exactly where we would be. Count had taken over as the executive member, and Grace had called Kelly to babysit the kids. It was the best solution, but every member of the club offered their sympathy to Grace, Meredith, and even me.
I felt numb for the next few days, but on the morning of the funeral, my stomach knotted. Saying goodbye to Gerry came with a mixed set of emotions. I’d always remember the good times, especially when the girls had gotten older. He’d often stop on his way home, eating dinner with me and discussing whatever was going on. We’d attend charity functions together, gossiping about our social circle. It had been a good life, filled with companionship.
I wouldn’t tarnish my memories of Gerry, but there was a part of me that was relieved. I didn’t for one second think the cartel was going to stop, but at least they couldn’t convince Gerry to sell them any more secrets.
At the end of the burial, the funeral director announced we would hold a luncheon, and most people made their way to their cars to leave. I stood in front of the stone, staring at my sister’s name carved into the face.
“Do you need a minute?” Thunder’s arm over my shoulder pinned me to his side.
“Stay.” My eyes roamed from her name to her birthday, but never the last day I saw her. “I miss you,” I whispered. A tear fell from the corner of my eye, and I didn’t bother to wipe it away.
