A Beautiful Funeral (The Maddox Brothers #5) - Jamie McGuire Page 0,4

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,