Finally, the priest turned toward the assemblage of mourners and opened the Bible. “Beloved members of the Steele family, friends, acquaintances, and all who gather to pay their respects to this wonderful woman,” the priest began.
Just the tone of his voice sent the throng of onlookers into a frenzy of anguish. He continued on about Steele’s courageous life and how she was in a better place, but this wasn’t going to stop the agony. Nick couldn’t bear to hear much more. He kept a close eye on his partner who was holding up quite well under the circumstances.
Nick looked over his shoulder to see Walt Jackson standing in the periphery, respectful, but not wanting to mingle too much. He’d already been to two other funerals that week. He looked as if he’d aged five years over the past seven days.
“So it is worthy of note that her soul will be with our Father. .” the priest continued. This certainly didn’t help. Even the believers were blowing their nose.
To Nick’s right, a small cloud of dust meandered across the hilltops finding its way toward them in a serpentine fashion. The trail was preceded by a blue sedan.
“She’s in Heaven, right?” Julie whispered in Nick’s ear.
It caught him off guard. There was a man who’d devoted his entire life to the Lord standing fifteen feet away from them, and yet Julie still needed to hear it from Nick. The voice of authority.
“Yes,” Nick whispered. “She’s in Heaven.”
Julie nodded to herself, satisfied with the answer, still trusting her husband with the important stuff.
Movement came into Nick’s periphery. The blue sedan slowly pulled into an open patch of grass and stopped. The door opened and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. His cousin, Tommy, came around the rental car wearing a black sports coat and chewing on a purple toothpick tucked into the corner of his mouth. In his left hand was a single red rose. He greeted Walt with a firm handshake, then fist-bumped Stevie who seemed thrilled to see him.
Nick nodded and Tommy winked back. Julie followed Nick’s gaze and gasped with delight when she saw who’d arrived. She immediately twisted out of Nick’s grip and ran into Tommy’s arms, squealing with a combination of joy and heartache. Tommy gathered her into a bear hug. The spectacle even caused the priest to lose his focus for a moment before gaining his stride once again.
For Nick it was pure pleasure. Tommy and Julie had shared some real history together. He was much more than just family. Nick heard Tommy say, “Where’s my godson?”
Julie explained in a soft voice how Thomas was being watched by some neighbors. Actually, Thomas was being watched by some neighbors and a squad of FBI agents who’d flown into Payson just to protect Nick’s family.
The priest continued with a passage from the Bible Nick recognized as John 11:25. “I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in Me, though he may die, yet shall he live.”
Once again this didn’t achieve the desired effect as the sniffles increased and the sobs gained volume.
Tommy took a wide route around the gathering until he slowly approached the casket. He stood over the remains of Jennifer Steele with his hands together and lowered his head. He stayed in that position for a couple of minutes while the priest seemed to be winding down his sermon. Finally, Tommy leaned over and placed the red rose, then bent all the way down to kiss the top of the casket. There was something intimate about the way he gently caressed the mahogany, then turned and walked around to the back of the crowd.
As with most funerals, there was an awkward period at the end where the family feels the need to thank the guests for coming and Matt did most of the leg work for Mrs. Steele while she tried to maintain her composure.
Nick, Walt, Stevie and Tommy found their way up a hill to the shade of a tall pine and greeted one another properly.
“Good to see you, Tommy,” Walt said, letting him know the FBI is still grateful for his past assistance with rounding up terrorists on US soil.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Good to be back in the States.”
“Where’d you go?” Stevie asked.
“Nairobi. I have a friend whose daughter runs an orphanage for AIDS babies.” Tommy shook his head. “Boy, you think things are bad here, until you go over there and see what’s going on. It’s disgusting.”
Tommy looked over his shoulder at Matt, who was finishing off the final few good-byes. “How’s he holding up?”
“Better than I thought,” Nick said. “But he may be keeping it all in.”
Matt spotted the group and labored his way up the hill as if carrying a loaded backpack. As he approached, his swollen eyes became visible. He grabbed Tommy’s handshake and pulled him into a hug.
“Thanks for coming,” Matt said.
Tommy said nothing. He simply patted Matt on the back and gave a terse nod.
Matt looked at Walt, shifting his weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I need to get to him.”
Walt was the consummate pro. He let Matt’s anger stew. It was all Matt had right then and Walt wasn’t about to take it away from him.
“As long as we get this dirty bomb along the way,” Walt said.
“This Garza, is he hard to find?” Tommy asked.
“No,” Nick said. “We know where he is.”
Tommy jabbed the purple toothpick into a back molar. “Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, he’s in Mexico,” Walt said, making eye contact with everyone to get his message across. “So we can’t exactly barge into the country and make a scene.”
“There’s an election to consider,” Nick finished for his boss. “So we can’t be seen taking control of the situation. It would make President Salcido look weak.”
Tommy cringed. “What the-”
Nick held out his hand to cut him off. “Don’t,” Nick said. “This isn’t Walt’s decision, so let’s not make this out to be something it isn’t.” He looked at Matt. “We’re still on the same team and have the same goals. It’s just a little trickier.”
“So,” Matt said. “Where do we start?”
“We start at the bottom,” Walt said. “Find the weak link.”
“Won’t that take time?” Matt asked, glancing back at the casket, his mind clearly torn.
“Maybe not.” Walt pulled a small stack of fresh hundred dollar bills from his coat pocket and handed them to Nick.
“Is there something special about these?” Nick said, looking them over, then handing the stack to Tommy.
Walt seemed to wait until Tommy had a chance to examine the bills.
“Notice anything?” Walt asked.
“They’re good,” Tommy said, taking a single bill from the pack, then holding it up to the sunlight. “I mean, they could pass as real.”
Walt grinned. “Yes they could. In fact they did, until DEA made a cocaine bust in downtown Tucson last week. The drug dealers themselves had no idea. Even after they were booked. Do you know which smuggler made the transfer?”
“Garza,” Nick said, finally putting it all together.
Walt pointed a finger at him. “Bingo.” He looked at Tommy. “Any idea who made it?”
Tommy shrugged. “Not really. If we were back home I might know a name or two. You want me to make a couple of calls?”
Walt scratched the side of his face. “We don’t have time for that. There is another way. One of the field’s best counterfeiters is imprisoned right here in Arizona. I’m hoping he’ll help.”
“Who?” Tommy asked.
“Frank DeRosa.”
Tommy waved his hand. “Naw. You’d be wasting your time.”
“You know him?” Nick asked.
“Not really. I know who he is though, and there’s no way Frank DeRosa is going to squeal on anyone. For any reason.”
“Even if we offer to lessen his sentence?” Nick asked.
Tommy looked off into the horizon, deep in thought. After a few moments he said, “Look. The only way this guy will tell you anything is if I make an appointment with him personally and discuss his release.”
Walt made a sour lemon face. “Make an appointment? He’s in prison.”