For three days, we didn’t sleep. We ate only when necessary. Tracking dogs had been brought in and sent home. The news had posted a reward notice for information. All we had to go on was that he was a white male that was good with a rifle. Not much of a description for an APB.
We came home shortly before dawn on the fourth day. Kansas City had been searched by the SCTU and VCU like never before. More than one person would be filing reports with civil rights groups. We’d chased every lead and come up empty.
Now, we had a few hours to sleep. My bed was welcoming as I slipped between the blankets and sheets. I set an alarm on my phone and put it next to me.
Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers woke me up. My body moved without my mind thinking. My fingers turned off the alarm, grabbed a gun and my phone, then my feet took me to the bathroom.
The water was hot and felt good on my tired muscles. It eased my mind about our failure, at least temporarily. When the water began to run cold, I turned it off and stepped back into my bedroom.
A black dress lay on the bed. It hadn’t been there earlier. I wrapped the towel tighter. Black tights and short heeled black shoes with silver buckles finished the ensemble. Picking up the dress, a silver necklace fell onto the bed. An effigy of Set hung from the chain. It was cold in my hand. I fastened it in place first, foregoing my usual talisman.
The dress had long sleeves with small, silver buttons on the front. The neckline was rounded and tastefully cut so that it didn’t plunge or show too much cleavage, even on me. The material was soft and felt cool against my skin. The tag had been removed for my comfort. The tights were a lightly more difficult. I tugged them into place, hating the things, but realizing that they covered the scars. Finally, I added shoes.
“Under different circumstances, I’d tell you how beautiful you look,” Trevor said as I stepped from the bedroom.
“Thanks,” I told him.
“The pendent was Malachi’s idea.”
“It fits my mood.” Set was the Egyptian God of Plague and War. It definitely fit my mood.
“He’s downstairs,” Trevor told me. “I just came to make sure you got dressed.”
“I did,” I gave him a small smile. He hugged me. I didn’t pull away, a sign that he had become family.
“That looks good on you,” Malachi said as I came down the stairs. “You look like you’re ready for a night on the town.”
“We’re not going for a night on the town,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he answered. Malachi was attending as my friend and as a professional courtesy. Tomorrow, we would be attending a funeral for the VCU agent whose name I had never learned. However, we’d be using the Marshals jet for it, as the agent had been returned to his home town in Florida.
Michael had a sister, but he hadn’t spoken to her in years. Nyleena and Trevor had made all the funeral arrangements. The sister’s attendance was questionable.
I climbed into the truck with Malachi. It was fitting that Malachi drove a black one-ton dual-wheeled vehicle with a full sized bed and crew cab. For me, getting in was always difficult. My legs didn’t have his length and it was nearly impossible for me to reach the handle from the ground. Sometime in the last year, he’d had side runners installed, making it much easier, especially in a dress. I wondered if this had been done for me or his many lady friends. I decided not to ask as we drove in silence to Michael’s funeral.
The funeral home was packed. Another well-kept secret, Michael had friends, lots of them. A woman stood near the coffin. Her hair was a dirty blond, her eyes were bloodshot, and she wore no make-up.
Malachi and I made our way towards her. She was the only person standing near the coffin. The men of the SCTU sat in the front row. Gabriel caught the skirt of my dress and shook his head at me. Malachi shot her a look, then looked back at me.
“Here,” Lucas moved over enough for me to slide in next to him. Malachi and the men of the SCTU were all pall-bearers, I was not. In some ways, this made me stand out even more than normal. I squeezed in next to the large man.
“I’m not a casket carrier,” I whispered to him.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lucas whispered back. “You belong with us. When we go up to get the casket, you walk with us, then you stand with us as we carry him out.”
“Is that his sister?” I asked.
“No, that was his girlfriend,” Lucas told me. “She and Gabriel got into it before the funeral because she tried to have us all removed.”
“I didn’t know Michael had a girlfriend,” I admitted.
“None of us did. They’d never met in person. They’ve been dating online for six years though. She found out through the news,” Lucas told me.
“Did his sister not come?”
“She’s here, she’s in the back. She collapsed when she first arrived. That’s why we’re still here. Gina wanted us gone, but Alice wanted us to stay.”
“Who’s Gina and Alice?” I asked.
“Gina is the girlfriend, Alice is the sister. Alice and Gina got into a fight earlier too. We thought Michael and Alice weren’t talking, it turns out they reconnected after our case in Alaska. She was planning on visiting him for Thanksgiving this year and meeting all of us. Alice was grateful that Nyleena and Trevor did all this. After the funeral, the Marshals Service is giving them our plane to take Michael back to North Carolina for burial. Alice wants to meet you.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Instead of answering, Lucas stood up. I followed suit, and walked a half step behind him into a back room.
The back room was pleasantly furnished. Plush furniture with wood accents and large, antique looking legs were the primary decor. A woman and a man were in the room. The woman had long hair, swept up in a French braid. The man was holding her hand.
“Aislinn?” The woman said my name as I entered the room.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I’m Alice Brine, I’m Michael’s sister.”
“It’s a pleasure,” I shook hands with the woman who pulled me into her for a hug. I felt myself stiffen and tried to relax. It didn’t work. I put my arms around her as best as I could and let her hug me.
“Michael said you weren’t comfortable with touching,” she smiled at me.
“I have quirks,” I admitted, swallowing and stepping away from her.
“He was very anxious for me to come meet all of you.”
“Sorry it is under these circumstances.” I said.
“We didn’t talk when he became a Marshal, I wasn’t happy with his sudden decision to join the federal government tracking down hard-core criminals.”
“It is a hard job for a family to understand.”
“I understand it now, why he did it.” Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. I wiped at my own face, the first tears shed since seeing him lying on the floor of the restaurant. The entire world had been consumed by the darkness and my need to catch his killer.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I told her. “Or talk about this.”
“Michael told me I’d like you. He was right. I do like you. He talked about you every time we spoke. Talked about how big and bad you were and how you always put your team first,” she paused. “I know you couldn’t stop what happened. I don’t blame you for his death. I don’t blame anyone except the man that shot him. Michael was doing his job.”
I didn’t refute this, despite my brain telling me that no, Michael had been having dinner. It wasn’t his job to die while having dinner. It wasn’t his job to die at all. He was our geek, not our hired gun. Somehow, this conversation was making me feel worse about what had happened.
“So, I don’t have any family left except my husband, Joe. I’d like for us to become friends. Michael would have wanted that,” she said to me.
“You can call me anytime,” I told her. “However, if I’m on a case, I don’t always answer and if I do, I may not be real...”
“I know,” she said. “Michael told me that you were a bad ass for a reason. That’s what he called you, ‘a bad ass.’ Michael wanted me to get to know you and the rest of the SCTU team because he called you his family.” She broke down, tears poured from her eyes, running from her face in streams.
“We take care of our own and their families,” Lucas handed her a tissue. “You are as much a part of the family as Michael was.”
“Thank you,” the husband, Joe, spoke for the first time.
“We’ll leave you to your grief for a few minutes,” Lucas nodded. I gave the husband a fake smile. I touched the shoulder of the sobbing sister.
We returned to our seats. I sat next to Lucas. Gina glared at me. I ignored her. A slideshow from Michael’s life was still being shown. There was a picture of Michael with his hand swollen and wrapped in gauze. Xavier was next to him, tongue out, laughing. They both looked happy. I hadn’t been at the hospital after Michael had touched the Teddy-bear Cactus. However, I remembered the injury aftermath and the T-shirts they were both wearing at the time. It had been taken in Las Vegas, the two smiling despite the pain of the cactus or the fact that we had been hunting a serial killer.
Alice and Joe Brine emerged from the back room. They headed to their seats. When they had sat down, Gina moved away from the coffin. She stopped and glared at me, inches from my face.
“You need to take your seat,” Gina’s tone was harsh. “These are reserved for the pall-bearers and you are not one.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice stand up. She walked with purpose towards us.
“Is there a problem?” Alice asked.
“She’s not a pall-bearer,” Gina hooked her thumb at me.
“No, she’s not,” Alice agreed. “But if the men weren’t freakishly tall, she would be. She’s in her rightful place, Gina. She will walk out with the casket. She will stand by it while they give their salute to a fallen Marshal. She will go through all the ceremony that Michael earned, because she is one of them.”
That effectively shut up the girlfriend. Alice squeezed my hand and returned to her seat. Gina sort of slunk to another one, a row behind us. She wasn’t actually angry at me, she was angry that I had a better spot at the funeral than her. I disliked her, intensely. Alice on the other hand, I liked. She was a strong woman.