Next Exit, Use Caution

by CW Browning

  She turned her eyes to the front of the church, and the open casket placed before the steps leading to the altar. The line of mourners entered from the doors at the back of the church and filed down the far side of the church to the front, crossing in front of the pews to view John, then proceeding to their seats up the center aisle. On this side of the church, the front pew was reserved for the family. Alina could see Bill and Joanne, seated on the end next to the center aisle, with an aging couple next to them. The rest of the pew was obscured from her line of sight, but Alina assumed that Stephanie and Angela were in that pew, or the one behind. Joanne wouldn’t have let them go far. She would have seated them with the family.

  Alina hesitated to emerge from her protected spot in the alcove. John’s aunt and uncle would be there, and his cousin Brett, if he was still alive and sober. What was left of the family nucleus was in the front of the church, and Alina was reluctant to join them. Somehow, it made it all so final. Someone coughed loudly, the sound echoing around the cavernous sanctuary and drawing Alina from her thoughts. It was time. She had to go join the others before Angie blew up her phone again.

  With one last, searching glance around the filled church, Viper moved out of the alcove and headed down the side toward the front left of the altar. As she drew closer, she saw that John’s aunt and uncle were indeed in the first pew, minus their son. Stephanie was also in the front pew with Angela beside her. Michael and Blake were sitting directly behind them, along with several other men in dark suits with the clear stamp of FBI on them. Alina’s lips twitched despite herself. Same haircuts, same posture...hell, they even all had the same color suit – black. It was like an ad for Federal Law Enforcement.

  Michael sat on the end, next to the side aisle. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked and he turned to see who was approaching. A look of relief crossed his face when he saw her, followed closely by a look bordering on astonishment. She raised an eyebrow in question, her eyes meeting his.

  “What?” she asked, drawing alongside him as he stood.

  Michael shook his head, his lips pulling into a grin.

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve only seen you in a skirt once, that’s all.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” she muttered. “It doesn’t happen often.”

  Angela turned at the sound of the voices and jumped up at the sight of Alina.

  “Lina!” she exclaimed, moving out of the pew to greet her. “Finally!”

  She ran an experienced eye over Alina and nodded in approval.

  “You look amazing,” she announced in satisfaction. “Joanne wants you with us. You can slide in next to Stephanie.”

  “I’ll stay on the end,” Alina replied, motioning Angie back into the pew. “I don’t want to disturb anyone.” Or be trapped with no way out, she added silently.

  “Lina!”

  Stephanie began to stand but Alina waved her down again as Angela resumed her seat. She slipped into the pew next to Angela and sat down.

  “It’s about time you got here!” Stephanie hissed, leaning forward so that she could see her. “Where the hell have you been?!”

  “I was running behind. I obviously didn’t miss much.”

  “No, they’re still coming in,” Stephanie answered, glancing back to gauge the line. “At least the line seems to be in from outside now.”

  There was a murmur and a ‘psssst’ from the other end of the pew. Alina leaned forward to see Joanne waving to her. She nodded back, smiled in greeting to John’s aunt, and sat back before either woman thought to get up and come greet her properly. The less attention drawn to her the better.

  “You look fantastic,” Stephanie said, turning back to her. “Is that what Angie picked out?”

  “Yes.”

  “I told you,” Angela said, glancing at her. “She should let me dress her all the time.”

  “Is everything alright?” Michael inserted his head between Angie’s shoulder and Alina. “You’re late.”

  “Fine,” Alina said, glancing at him. “Stop worrying.”

  “Why is he...why are you worrying?” Angela demanded. “I swear, Michael, you’ve been like a mama bear all morning. What’s got into you?”

  “You mean besides the visitor we had last night?” he asked.

  Angela shrugged and turned to face the altar again.

  “Oh that,” she muttered. “I don’t see anyone missing half their arm, so I think we’re safe. Oh, good Lord! What is she wearing?!”

  Alina glanced at her, raising an eyebrow at the look on her friend’s face. She followed Angela’s horrified gaze.

  “Oh my...do you see this?” Stephanie hissed.

  Alina not only saw, but was having a hard time not laughing. John’s ex-girlfriend was advancing on the open coffin. Leopard print had been exchanged for a more respectful, solid black. Dressed in a knee-length, sleeveless dress, she would have been unremarkable if it weren’t for the neckline plunging clear down to her navel. The deep opening could have been overlooked if the gap was narrow, but it was not. The wide expanse of skin left exposed displayed much more than the pantsuit from last night and Alina heard a low chuckle behind her.

  “Well, that’s an interesting choice,” Michael said.

  “Interesting choice?” Angela gaped. “Joanne must be having a heart attack!”

  “It will take more than that to give her a heart attack,” Alina said, the faintest tremor in her voice.

  Angela glanced at her suspiciously.

  “Are you laughing?!”

  Before Alina could acknowledge or deny, Nipples made her move toward the coffin. She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a black handkerchief. Tottering on stilettos higher than even Angela wore, she went to the side of the casket to say her final farewell. From Alina’s vantage point at the end of the pew, she had a clear view of John’s ex-girlfriend and she shook her head in bemusement. John couldn’t have found a woman more different from Alina if he went to outer space and came back with a green-skinned alien. Part of her was absolutely horrified her successors had apparently all followed this same mold: fake boobs, fake hair and no brains to speak of.

  “What the...oh no, she is not!” Angela exclaimed under her breath.

  Alina stared transfixed as the woman reached the side of the casket and burst into uncontrollable tears. The sobs were loud and she made no attempt to try to smother them or keep it down. Within seconds, the sobs escalated into a wail and an uncomfortable hush fell over the front half of the church.

  “For God’s sake,” Stephanie muttered audibly.

  A black-suited usher from the funeral home moved forward silently, reaching her side in record time. He reached out to place a gentle hand on her arm, trying to turn her away from the coffin. He was murmuring something quietly and succeeded in leading the distraught woman a few steps away before she wrenched out of his grasp and turned back toward the casket.

  Angela sucked in her breath and Stephanie let out an involuntary gasp as Nipples threw herself at the casket.

  “NO!!” she cried, her voice echoing through the church. “John, don’t leave me!!”

  She draped herself over the side of the casket sobbing, her arms going over John’s motionless shoulders. As her midriff made contact with the side of the coffin, the thin fabric of her dress proved no match for the silicone it restrained. Gasps filled the front pews as a large, round breast popped free.

  Alina clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to stop from laughing and clapped her hand over her mouth. Michael’s head disappeared from behind her shoulder and she heard him burst into a muffled fit of guffaws.

  “Good Lord!” Bill exclaimed loudly from the other end of the pew, standing.

  Joanne reached up and pulled him down forcibly, her face bright red.

  “Let the usher handle it!” she hissed. “Don’t make it worse than it already is!”

  “You can’t get much worse than a boob smacking our son in the face!” he retorted, his
voice booming through the church.

  “Oh my God,” Stephanie gasped, sinking down in the pew, her shoulders shaking.

  To give the poor usher credit, he never once cracked the professional mask he wore as he once again approached the wailing woman. He smoothly positioned himself so that she was partially concealed as he gently pulled her off of John’s lifeless body.

  “For God’s sake, tuck that boulder back in!” Angela muttered, watching as the usher tried to pry her away from the casket. “I don’t need to see a bouncing Buddha at eleven-thirty in the morning!”

  “Angie!” Stephanie whispered in a strangled voice.

  “What? I don’t!”

  Alina felt herself losing the battle and her shoulders began to shake silently.

  Realizing the woman was in no shape to address her wardrobe malfunction, the usher quickly removed his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Fortunately, he managed to cover her before she faced a packed Catholic church. Unfortunately for the front row, he didn’t get the jacket on before he turned her away from the casket.

  “Oh God!” Angela exclaimed, slapping her hand over her eyes.

  “At least it’s perky,” John’s aunt announced in a stage whisper. “Could be worse. It could look like mine!”

  “Roxanne!” Joanne exclaimed, horrified. “Really!”

  Someone whistled behind them and Alina’s shoulders shook harder. She watched through tearing eyes as the usher covered the offending mammary gland and led Nipples down the aisle and away from the casket. He had one arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders while the other hand held his jacket closed in front of her. She wasn’t getting away again.

  “Is it gone?” Angela demanded, her hand still covering her eyes.

  “Yes,” Stephanie said, turning her head to watch as Nipples was led away. “I think we’re safe.”

  Angela dropped her hand and immediately twisted around in the pew, craning her neck to watch the exit.

  “Did that really just happen?” Blake demanded from behind them, his voice shaking with laughter.

  “Yep.” Stephanie glanced at him, a grin tugging at her lips. “We like to keep our funerals interesting in New Jersey.”

  “This is better than Jersey Shore,” Michael said, his eyes meeting Alina’s as she looked back to check the progress of Nipples and the usher.

  Her eyes were dancing.

  “John would be very proud,” she agreed.

  “John’s somewhere right now laughing his ass off,” Stephanie said, overhearing. “I wouldn’t put it past him to have planned this somehow!”

  Alina returned her attention to the front of the church in time to see an older gentleman turn away from the casket and pause next to Bill, laying a hand on his shoulder in a motion of comfort. The line of mourners continued, the drama over, and the ordeal continued. As the last of the mourners paid their respects, Alina glanced up to the statue of Mary next to the lectern in front of her. The peaceful countenance and outstretched hands belied the absurdity of the scene that just took place, and Alina suppressed another chuckle. Stephanie was right.

  If there was an afterlife, and John was in it, he was undoubtedly laughing at them all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Alina glanced at her watch as she sat down. The mass was underway at last, with Father Angelo at the helm. He’d aged in eleven years, with silver gracing his temples, and new lines on his face, but his eyes were still every bit as warm and filled with wisdom as they had been the last time she saw him. Once he turned to face the congregation after the procession, his eye caught hers and he gave her an imperceptible nod. Alina was uncomfortable with the recognition. She’d been away for so long that it seemed unreal that people remembered her. She’d seen so much over the years, things that changed her down to her very foundation. Viper was an entirely different person from the heartbroken girl who went away eleven years ago. It felt as if no one should recognize her.

  Her eyes shifted from the priest to the shiny black casket now closed before the altar. Inside was the very man she’d run from all those years ago, and now here she was saying goodbye. Alina resisted the urge to shake her head. There was no point in dwelling on it. The past was the past, and nothing could change the course that had led them here. John was killed by an assassin because of letters her brother wrote twelve years ago.

  Everyone in the church believed John was killed by injuries sustained when his Firebird flipped and hit a tree during a night street race in the Pines. Only she knew the truth: that Kyle March had gone into John’s hospital room and injected potassium chloride into his IV, inducing the fatal heart attack that killed him. Viper listened to Father Angelo recite the opening prayers of the mass, her mind back in the wide corridor of the hospital. If she’d arrived just ten minutes sooner, John might still...she stopped the thought impatiently. No. Kyle would simply have found another way, and they still would have ended up right here.

  It was John’s own fault, of course. If he’d just come to her with the letters, Viper could have taken on the investigation that got him killed, but he didn’t. She frowned. Why hadn’t he? Hawk thought it was suspicious, and it didn’t sit well with Alina either. She had no answers, though.

  “Will you stop scowling?” Angela hissed.

  Alina glanced at her in surprise.

  “Would you like me sit here grinning like a loon instead?” she whispered back.

  “No. Just look tragically calm!”

  Alina blinked.

  “Good Lord,” she muttered under her breath.

  The congregation stood up as a hymn began playing and Alina stood with them.

  “Who am I looking tragically calm for?” she asked Angela in a low voice.

  “Everyone!” came the exasperated answer. “How many times do I have to tell you that everyone is watching you?”

  “And how many times do I have to say that I don’t give a flying–”

  “Ssshhh!!!” Stephanie hissed, stopping Alina mid-whisper. “For God’s sake, Father Angelo will hear you two!”

  “Father Angelo can’t hear anything up there,” Angela retorted, falling silent nonetheless.

  Alina felt her lips curving despite herself and repressed the smile firmly. As the hymn ended and they began to seat themselves again, Stephanie remained standing and moved past them out of the pew. Alina raised an eyebrow in question and Stephanie made a face.

  “First reading,” she whispered in explanation, stepping past Alina and out of the pew.

  Alina grimaced in sympathy, turning her attention to Father Angelo as he recited another opening prayer, his voice booming through the crowded church. A stray lock of hair escaped from the chignon at the back of her head, and Alina raised a hand to brush it behind her ear.

  A chill streaked down her spine and the fine hair on the back of her neck prickled in warning. Her hand dropped and Viper turned her head, casting a sharp glance behind her over the sea of faces.

  Michael caught the look and raised his eyebrows questioningly. She shook her head imperceptibly and turned her head back, her lips pressed together grimly.

  Something was wrong.

  Every fiber in her being was suddenly and inexplicably tense, humming in warning. Viper had learned over the years not to dismiss her sixth sense, and it was screaming now. She shifted on the wooden pew, conscious of the holster strapped around her upper thigh holding a modified Glock G43. Thanks to Angela’s wardrobe requirements, Viper’s SR45 had been out of the question. Now, her skin crawling with warning, Alina wished she had the more powerful weapon.

  The opening prayer was winding down and Alina watched Stephanie move forward to the lectern directly in front of her. Alina slid her eyes to the left. Mary the Blessed Virgin gazed tranquilly over the congregation, but it was the double-door exit drawing Viper’s attention. With a quick glance, she gauged the distance to the exit, estimating the number of seconds it would take to clear it.

  Stephanie mounted the shallow steps and moved
behind the lectern as a hush fell over the church. Father Angelo fell silent and someone coughed in the back, the sound echoing through the sanctuary. All eyes turned to the left of the altar where Stephanie stood behind the tall, ornately carved podium elevated above the congregation.

  Viper cast another glance around. Her heart was pounding now, thumping against her ribs almost painfully. She had to move! She was too exposed here in the front pew. There was nothing to protect her, nothing to shield her.

  “A reading from the Book of Wisdom,” Stephanie said, her voice strong and clear in the microphone attached to the lectern.

  Alina forced herself to focus on her friend’s face as she took a deep, calming breath. As soon as the reading was over and Stephanie returned to the pew, she would slip out of the exit doors and double back to the rear of the church. She would watch the rest of the mass there, where she could see everyone and no one was behind her.

  “`The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them,’” Stephanie read, her eyes on the large book open before her. “`They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.’”

  A loud bang interrupted the reading as a kneeler slammed down, wood striking marble with sudden and irrepressible force. The sound cracked out like a shot, echoing through the church. Viper reacted on pure instinct, sliding off the pew and lowering her head toward the floor even as her brain registered the sound. It was just a kneeler, not a gunshot.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Viper raised her head to see Angela staring, dumbfounded, straight ahead. She straightened up a bit and glanced over the waist-high wooden wall in front of her. Stephanie was nowhere to be seen, and the lectern had a hole the size of a golf ball halfway down the front. The gaping hole looked black against the cream paint and the wood surrounding it had splintered from a high impact force. Alina twisted her head around, her eyes going straight to the only possible point of origin for a shot at that angle.