by Thomas Scott
“Never used to be able to sneak up on you like that, Murt. How’s it hanging?”
He recognized the voice and didn’t bother to turn around. “I’d love to catch up, Paul, but I’m a little busy right now.”
Agent Paul Gibson had been Murton’s handler when he worked undercover with the FBI. Over the twenty-plus years they had worked together they never were quite friends, but they’d been good colleagues. “Before you excuse yourself, though, tell me this: Why are the feds here?”
“Just fed,” Gibson said. “Singular. I’m the only federal agent here. And I’m not with the FBI anymore, either. Got a little bump.”
“Where to?”
“Homeland.”
Now Murton did turn around. “You’re shitting me?”
Gibson smiled at him and held out his identification. Murton looked at it and nodded. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you. Why are you here?”
Gibson tipped his head at Decker who was trying to sit up. “Your man there is making a break for it.”
Murton rolled his eyes, de-cocked his gun and swung it backwards without looking and cracked Decker across the nose. Decker moaned and fell backwards on the cot.
Murton raised his eyebrows at Gibson.
“I’ve been wanting to have a little chat with your boy, Decker, here.”
“You better talk fast then.”
“I’m going to need you to step outside, Murt.”
“Not gonna happen, Paul.”
“It’s not Decker I’m interested in. It’s his boss.”
“Gordon?”
“That’s the one.”
“Why?”
Gibson seemed to be examining his options. He tilted his head, an indication for Murton to step away from Decker.
Murton turned back, looked at Decker and said, “If you try to get off this cot, I’ll shoot you. Look in my eyes and tell me I won’t.”
Decker visibly swallowed, but otherwise didn’t move.
They walked a few yards away, both of them keeping an eye on Decker. Gibson lowered his voice. “Kreg Gordon was murdered. We found him and another victim at Gordon’s home. Guy named Westlake. You know who he is?”
“Yeah. The lawyer that was setting up the fracking deal in Shelby County.”
“I don’t care about all the Mickey Mouse fracking bullshit. But Westlake and Gordon were connected to the Russians and they were the money behind the fracking deal, among other things.”
“What’s the rest of the story?”
“Classified.”
Murton put it together in about two seconds. “You’re not here for Decker. You’re here for me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You always were a little too clever for your own good.” Gibson nodded in Decker’s direction. “I heard all about what this asshole did. She going to make it?”
“Small? Yeah. Looks like she’ll pull through. The baby too.”
Gibson smiled. “That’s great. Happy ending all the way around.” He looked at Decker again. “Well, almost all the way. Do me a favor will you? Step outside. There’s someone waiting. They’d like a word with you.”
“You said you were alone.”
“No, I said I was the only federal agent here.”
“What about him?” Murton said. He meant Decker.
“As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist,” Gibson said. Then he turned and walked away.
“The fuck was that all about?” Decker said.
“I don’t know yet. But it doesn’t concern you. So, where were we?”
“You were trying to be clever, saying you were going to sit here and wait for me to die.”
“Yeah, I sort of changed my mind about that.” Murton brought the gun up and pointed it at Decker’s heart. “You got mixed up with the wrong group, Bub. Nobody threatens or does harm to my family and gets away with it. Look at it this way…at least you won’t suffer any longer.”
“Fuck you,” Decker said.
Murton shot him in the chest three times in rapid succession. “Yeah, fuck me.”
When he stepped outside Murton saw Gibson leaning against a black limo. He walked over and stood next to him.
“I really did want to talk to him,” Gibson said.
“Too late. And you’re forgetting I know you a little too well, Paul.” A panel van backed up to the hangar and two men dressed in white Tyvek suits got out and went inside. “What are they doing?”
“Cleaners,” Gibson said.
“Uh huh. Wanted to talk to Decker, my ass. You were trying to take the heat off me. I appreciate it, but it’s not necessary. I’ve got it covered.”
“So let us handle the cleanup. Why bother doing it yourself when you’ve got the federal government ready and willing to assist in your time of need? Anyway, hop in. We need to talk about something…and you, in particular, need to listen.”
Murton pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek. After a moment they got in the back of the car and when Murton saw who was seated inside, he was at a loss for words.
“Good evening, Murt,” the governor said. “You and me and agent Gibson here are going to take a little ride. That okay with you?”
Murton looked over his shoulder at the hangar. The two men in Tyvek suits were carrying Decker’s body through the door. They laid him on top of a sheet of plastic, wrapped his body up like a roll of carpet, then put it in the back of the truck and drove away. He looked back at the governor. “You’re the boss.”
The governor chuckled at him. “Sometimes I wonder, Murt. I really do.” Then he slapped his thigh and said, “Let’s get out of here before the cops show up, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll be home before bedtime.”
37
Cora worked with the adoption people and got all the necessary paperwork pushed through. Once the red tape had been cut—something with which Cora was extremely adept—the process was quick and smooth. She even had the judge show up at the hospital to preside over the hearing. After all the required documentation was approved and the papers were signed by Virgil and Sandy, the judge sat down next to Jonas and looked him in the eye.
“Do you understand what’s happening here young man?”
Jonas looked at the judge and didn’t answer. The judge waited a few moments then tried again. “Everything we’re doing here…do you know what it means?”
Jonas remained silent.
Virgil cleared his throat. “Your Honor, may I have a word with you in the hallway for a moment?”
They stepped out into the hall. The judge wasn’t pleased. “You know, when Cora LaRue called, she told me to come over here. She didn’t ask me, she told me. Anyway, I knew I couldn’t say no. I owe her a few favors. No, no, don’t ask. I’m not going to tell you. But she said get over here, so here I am. That means I’ve reduced my favor count to her by one no matter how this thing turns out.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “I’m this close to being free. I thought you guys would have prepped him a little better. What’s the holdup with the kid?”
Clearly he doesn’t know how to deal with selfish assholes yet. “He’s just a child.” Then, trying to put a smile in his voice: “I don’t think he has a full and complete understanding of the complexities of the law. How about we give him a break? To tell you the truth, Judge, I think he’s afraid of you. He doesn’t know who you are or why you’re here.”
The judge snorted and looked like he was about to say something nasty, then to Virgil’s surprise, he softened. “You know what? He probably is. Do this job long enough and you can get a little rough around the edges. You think criminal court is bad? Try family court. Some of the shit I’ve seen…”
“I’ve got an idea if you’re willing to entertain it,” Virgil said.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Lose the robe. I think it might be intimidating him. No disrespect, but with that thing on you look like the grim reaper in the room. Without it, you look like you might be somebody’s grandpa.”
The judge chuckled at him. “I am somebody’s grandpa. And you know what? I think you’re right.” He unzipped the robe, tossed it on the chair, removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “How’s this?”
The judge was making an effort and Virgil appreciated it. He smiled at him and said, “Let’s go find out.”
They walked back into the room and the judge asked Jonas to come and sit next to him. Jonas walked over and sat in the chair, his hands folded in his lap. He stared at the floor.
“I’ve got a grandson about your age,” the judge said. “He likes to go fishing with me. Do you like to fish?”
Jonas nodded. “I fished in Mr. Virgil’s pond. I caught a big mouth but we let him go.”
The judge laughed and rubbed the top of Jonas’s head. “I think you mean large mouth. That’s pretty impressive. Those can be hard to catch sometimes.”
They talked about fishing for a few minutes and then the judge reached over and picked up a stack of paperwork from the table. “Mr. Virgil and Miss Sandy have already signed these papers. That means they want to be your parents. Is that what you want?”
Jonas looked first at Virgil, then at Sandy, then back at his shoes. He nodded.
The judge put his hand on Jonas’s thigh. “You have to say it out loud. I have to hear you say yes or no.”
Jonas looked at Sandy and said, “Does that mean Wyatt will be my brother?”
“It sure does, honey. You’ll be Wyatt’s big brother.”
“I miss my mommy and daddy. I wish they didn’t have to go to heaven.”
“We all do, little man,” Virgil said. “My dad’s in heaven too, remember? I’ll bet he’s showing them all around. So what do you think? Can you tell the judge what you want?” Virgil put his hand on Jonas’s chest. “Just answer with your heart.”
The judge knew his opening when he saw it. “What do you say, Jonas? Do you want Mr. Virgil and Miss Sandy to be your new parents?”
Jonas looked at the judge. “Yes, please.”
The judge handed the stack of papers to Jonas. “Okay, that’s great. Now, I have to sign each one of these papers, and there are a lot of them. How about you hand them to me one at a time…”
Cora took pictures of everyone, tears rolling down her cheeks.
From Sandy’s perspective, it felt like she might never get to take her family home from the hospital. The docs wanted to make sure she was healing properly, which meant they couldn’t let her go until she could prove her body was functioning normally.
“How do I prove that?” she asked. “I’m hooked up to every machine ever invented.” She waved her hand around the room. “I don’t know what else I can do that you’re not already getting from all this.”
“You’ve got to have a bowel movement,” the doctor said. If he thought that was going to embarrass her, he was mistaken.
“Wait here,” she said. She stood from the bed, pulled the stand of monitors along with her, then walked into the bathroom and took care of business. The doctor went into the bathroom, flushed the toilet, came back out and shrugged. “That’s the rule. Once you’ve gone, you can go. I’ll get the paperwork started and you’ll be on your way. You’re one hell of a fighter, kiddo. Doctors don’t get to say this often enough, but I’m proud of you.”
Sandy smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Virgil and Jonas walked into the room. They’d been down in the cafeteria having breakfast. Jonas made a funny face, plugged his nose with his finger and thumb and said, “What’s that smell?”
“That is the sweet smell of freedom, my boy,” the doctor said.
Jonas looked at Sandy. He still had his nose plugged. “It smells like business to me.”
Two hours later, they were home.
Virgil found himself running around the house doing everything wrong. The crib had to be moved to the master bedroom, he’d somehow managed to buy the wrong size diapers, there was nothing in the house for Jonas to eat, the electric swing had to be assembled, and when he tried to wrap Wyatt in a swaddle, he ended up looking like a giant doobie on the verge of suffocation.
Fortunately, they’d hired a part-time nanny to help with the kids during Sandy’s recovery. It took Virgil about ten whole minutes before he offered her a full-time, live-in position. She readily agreed.
Jonas turned out to be a wonderful helper, except Virgil didn’t know what he needed help with until something needed tending to…and as it turned out, everything needed tending to.
They went about setting up baby monitors in all the rooms. His thinking had been, why keep lugging one transmitter to different rooms when you could just put one everywhere Wyatt was going to be and carry the receiver around. It was a fine idea until they were all tuned to the proper frequency and turned on. A loud screeching noise from the feedback filled every room of the house and they had to run around and turn them all off again. That woke Wyatt the giant doobie, who they’d just managed to get to sleep for the first time since they’d been home. Wyatt’s crying woke Sandy, who was less than pleased, and on and on it went like that, well into the afternoon.
Eventually Virgil and the nanny, a lovely woman named Huma Moon, fell into a rhythm and got everything squared away. Huma explained to Virgil that in addition to being a nanny, she was also something called a postpartum doula. Virgil listened and nodded at her like an idiot. He thought postpartum had something to do with depression and had absolutely no idea what a doula was or what they did. He pretended to know and Huma—who knew he was pretending—let him. Doula? It sounded like some sort of hippy bullshit. He’d Google it later. Her last name was Moon, after all. She was good though…he had to give her that.
“Listen, Huma, I need to step outside and get some air. Could you keep an eye on…” He waved his hands around, indicating the entire house. “This?”
“It gets easier, Mr. Jones. I know it’s all new and confusing and scary, but you’ll get the hang of it.”
“I’m sure I will,” Virgil said. “And call me Jonesy. But right now—”
She waved him away with a motherly smile. “Go, go.”
“I’ll be right outside, in the back. I’ve got some yard work and then I’ll probably have to go down to the bar later, and there’s that list you gave me for the store—”
“Jonesy…go.”
He went.
He ended up down by the pond, next to the cross. “One big happy family…home at last,” Mason said.
Virgil spun around. “Is there some sort of rule that says you have to sneak up on me every time?”
“No, but I do enjoy keeping you on your toes.”
Virgil zipped his coat and sat down on the cold hard ground. “It looks like everything’s working out. Just like you said it would.”
“I don’t recall saying that. What I said was, everything matters.”
“And now Jonas is ours, just like it was with you and mom and me and Murt.”
Mason looked at his son and didn’t reply.
“What?”
“I think you might have missed my point.”
“How’s that? You said I’d have some hard choices to make and I’ve made them. Not only that, I beat the odds. I really thought I was going to have to choose between my wife and my unborn son, but everything worked out just fine.”
“Everything that you’re aware of.”
“What do you mean? What am I not aware of?”
“Plenty. You thought this whole thing was about you and Sandy and Jonas and Wyatt, didn’t you?”
“Of course. What else could it possibly be about?”
“I asked you a couple of weeks ago if you thought I made the right decision when we took Murton in all those years ago.”
“I remember. So what? It was the right decision, Dad. I don’t know what I’d do without Murton in my life. He’s been a gift to me at every turn. Does this have anything to do with Jonas?”
“No, Son, it doesn’t. It’s about Murt. It’s always been about Murt. That
’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’d go spend some time with him if I were you. He’s going to need somebody by his side whether he knows it or not. He’s going to need you in particular.”
“Are you talking about what he did to Decker? That man almost destroyed my entire family. Murt took him out. He’s my hero. And believe me, if he hadn’t, I would have.”
“I believe you. But to answer your question, no, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
The baby monitor was still clipped to Virgil’s belt. It squawked at him and Huma’s voice came through the speaker. “Jonesy, when you’re finished speaking with that gentleman could I see you in the house for a moment? There’s some things we need from the store.”
Virgil turned and looked back at the house. Huma smiled and waved to him from the kitchen window then stepped away. When Virgil turned back, his father said, “I’d keep her around. She’s one of the good ones…and she’s a doula to boot.”
38
Virgil went down to the bar and spent some time with Delroy and Robert. He showed them pictures of Wyatt and Jonas and thanked them both for the extra work they’d put in since he and Murton had been hired by the state.
“Don’t you worry about it, you. Dat’s a fine looking family if I’ve ever seen one.”
Virgil hugged them both and thought about how lucky he was…that the people in his life were some of the finest human beings on the planet. “When we get settled and Sandy is feeling better we’ll have everyone over for an adoption party. With Wyatt and Jonas coming into our lives so close together we’re calling it our family anniversary.”
“Count me in,” Robert said. “Just let me do the cooking, huh, mon?”
“Deal,” Virgil said. “Have you guys seen Murt and Becky?”
“You just missed them,” Delroy said. “Dat Becky, she was on fire about someting, mon.”
