When Saint Goes Marching In (13 page)

“If you know that I’ve been doing it for a long time, and I’m like that, why would you expect me to change? When someone shows you who they are, believe them,” he teased.

“Smart ass. Anyway, I have some news. It just so happens that once a week, I will be writing an advice column blog for JCWG 102.6,” Xenia beamed.

Saint put his pole down and walked up to her. “Baby, that’s great!” He hugged her tightly and kissed her on her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just found out actually, like an hour ago. I think it’s a great way for me to get back in the game, plus, the little bit of extra income doesn’t hurt.”

“What do you mean extra income? I make enough for you to get just about anything you want. You don’t need to worry about finances, Xenia.”

“Baby, I know that but I still like to make my own money, too. You know how I am, I was a bit of an overachiever and then you and I got together so fast and everything just sped along. I’m used to working for mine. I’m a boss at heart, Saint. If I’m not out there in the world doing something, I feel like something is missing. I love being a wife and mother, it is the most important thing in my life, but I still…”

“You don’t have to explain, Xenia.” Saint stepped back from her and picked up the pole. “I get it. I’m not going to lie and tell you what you said didn’t kind of make me think there was something I wasn’t doing for you that you needed, but I’m just overreacting I suppose. I knew who you were when I married you, I knew you had a lot of drive and you would never be content just staying at home. I get it, really I do.” Saint fished blades of grass out of the water.

Xenia
slid off her flip flops and walked towards him. She smiled up at him and held him around his waist. “I’m sorry, Saint. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. I made sure I kept to our agreement about the boys, but I understand having a change of heart. My loyalty is first to you and our children and I mean that sincerely. I knew when you married me what you wanted and I’m OK with stepping back from this a while longer if that is what you need me to do.”

“Nah, baby, I don’t want you to do that.” Saint looked down at her. “Sometimes, I just feel like I’m going to lose you.” He wrapped his hands along the top of the swimming pole. “It’s just been a nagging feeling lately. Otherwise, nothing you said right now would have concerned me at all. I want you to do this, Xenia. I need to make that perfectly clear. I wouldn’t be allowing you to flourish if I tried to stifle you. I’m glad that you are a pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps type of woman. That is part of the reason I fell in love with you.”

Xenia
smiled and he pulled her closer.

“You don’t take anything lying down. You’re strong. You’re honest. You’re my wife and the mother of my babies. You’re dedicated. You’re there when I need you. You always have my back, Xenia. I wouldn’t try to stand in the way of your dreams.”

“And even though I don’t like this assignment of yours, I know it’s important and I won’t give you any more guilt trips,” she said.

“I know you worry about me and it makes you upset with me. You think I don’t listen to you or care that you are concerned when I go on assignment, but I do. I think that because of me being gone more in the last few months, you’ve been home realizing that if you make your world bigger again than just the kids and I, you can focus on other things and not be so upset. I understand it. Distraction sometimes is the best medicine so I fully get all the reasons why this is happening. I still want you here when I get home most of the time though. Call it selfish, but I look forward to those early evening love sessions.” Saint smiled wickedly. “You spoiled me. This has been going on for years now and we rarely miss it. I get in the house, I play with the boys, you and I shag, then we eat dinner together as a family. It’s our way,” he laughed.

Xenia
hooted. “You’ve been hanging around George too long,” she teased, “saying words like ‘shag.’ Anyway, yes, you do get me, and everything you said is true. I promise to be here most of the time when you get home.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m still not messin’ up my hair for you though.”

She pivoted, turned ninety degrees and sauntered off back into the house.

“You
will
get wet out here or in there! Doesn’t make much difference to me but you better choose one or I’ll choose for ya!”

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

“That’s the fifth couple killed, the sixth attacked. This time, he did much worse.”

James pulled out a folder with three crime scene photographs and passed them around the conference room. Saint watched as all the men viewed the photos; one of the members got sick and had to excuse himself.

“So, this is what we’re dealing with, folks. We have someone from our IT team watching all of the interracially geared websites, as well as scouting for any strange comments or unusual behavior as we continue to try and track down suspects. This person might be watching ‘hook-ups’ through hacking and following the couples. The police are finally admitting it may be racially motivated, but even though they won’t declare it, they still don’t have any leads.”

“Is it always a Black woman with a Rainbeau?” Nexus, a quality control engineer asked who had been with the Knights of the Round Table for three years.

“Yes, always, Nexus. He isn’t targeting any other demographic and all, except one, have been white men. The one that wasn’t, was half white and half Asian, however,” James answered.

George stood up and straightened his suit jacket. “Knights, Saint and I have, as you are aware, spoken to the Claymans and have done several follow-ups. Saint’s insight is quite useful. It appears that his educational background has come in handy, once again, regarding this matter. Would you care to share what you discovered, Saint?” he invited as he sat back down.

Saint approached the podium. “Before I do that, I first want to thank all of you for your support regarding the center in Illinois. The doors will open in approximately a month and a half. It is funded for two solid years. That is quite an achievement.” Everyone clapped. “It’s called ‘Rainbeau Haven,’ though we do also obviously keep the door open for Queens as well to come in for counseling.” Saint cleared his throat. “A couple of months ago, George and I went out to Kansas City, well actually the outskirts to a small town that I’m sure none of you have heard of, Kensington, to meet the Claymans. We conducted the interview and kept tabs on them as well as the updates from the other cases. I went out again, a couple of weeks ago, to conduct some additional research on my own. Here is what we’ve figured out.”

He paused for effect and continued. “The perpetrator works alone. He is a white male between twenty-one and thirty-five years of age. He has a mental and emotional disconnect with reality and the feelings of others. He’s a cigarette smoker. Mrs. Clayman confirmed that his breath was laden with the odor of such. He blends into the crowd well and doesn’t speak a lot. He is a loner and has an obsession with Black women, from a sexual sadist viewpoint. He is paranoid and now he is cocky. He has gotten away with it so much thus far; he is bound to get sloppy. His arrogance will trip him. All of the Black women he targeted only have their race in common. They all look different. Some are thin, some are overweight. Some are young, some are old. Their partners, their Rainbeaus, all looked different as well. He has become increasingly more violent over time. He is killing with a knife now. Knives are personal. You have to get in there close, in the trenches. He is probably looking at them in their face when he does it. He is getting gratification. It isn’t uncommon for sexual deviants to also enjoy stabbing with knives, especially if they have problems getting an erection to fulfill an actual rape. The knife takes the place of their penis, giving them the gratification of penetration and also murdering, simultaneously. He also has one documented case now of necrophilia.”

Everyone in the room sighed in disgust. Saint nodded in understanding and paused.

“What exactly is he doing?” Nexus asked as he jotted down notes. “I mean, I know that some of us may not want all the gory details, but I think it would help us understand really the magnitude of what we’re dealing with.”

 “The coroner stated that this latest victim, Simone Fitzgerald, twenty-three years of age, was sodomized post-mortem as well as while she was alive. So gentlemen, we have a real sick man on our hands and something needs to be done before he does this again. Right now, he is batting at about one double homicide every two months, give or take. His longest stretch was four months and that may coincide with him possibly trying to stop but probably something was going on in his personal or professional life that had to take top billing. He is most likely single with no children and also came from a family where he felt ignored or neglected.”

“How are we going to stop him?” Nexus asked. “That’s the million dollar question, Saint.”

“Well, he does have a pattern, believe it or not. Right off the bat these crimes seem sporadic, but they aren’t. I already mentioned his time frame and we are coming upon him striking again, actually, in the next few weeks. It’s a compulsion at this point and he won’t be able to stop himself. All of the victims were in their homes. All of them answered the door and we are assuming he used the same line on them, about his car breaking down and needing a phone. He is not always parked close to the houses he is going into. We understood that from the Clayman investigation.”

“Tell them your suspect, Saint,” George said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.”

“We believe the murderer may know one of the victims personally. Mr. Clayman works at an auto parts factory. There is a man there by the name of Stanley Pernell who fits the profile but I need to gather more information before I say anything conclusively so please do not let any of this information leave this room.”

James stood up and stood next to Saint. “OK, we need to wrap this up, boys. I’m sure Saint and George will keep us updated.”

Saint shook James’ hand and sat back down. As James wrapped up some last minute scheduling discussions, George leaned over to Saint.

“I know that you know more, but I’m just going to let you do your job. Just as our organization is secret, so is whatever happens to Stanley. Do you understand me?” George’s eyes narrowed as he looked intensely at Saint.

“What are you saying, George?” Saint asked, shocked at George’s implication.

“I’m saying if we confirm that he is in fact doing this, the prisons will give him a cushy life in which he is allowed three hots and a cot. He will be in protected segregation and allowed to continue drawing breath. We both know what will happen here because his victims are Queens and the men that love them are Rainbeaus. No one gives a damn about us! I want justice. Do you remember Iris’s face? That could have been your Queen or mine! Look at what he did to that poor girl in the photo tonight. Whoever it is, we will get him and turn him
inside out
!” George’s tone gained in pitch as he spat the last words.

“George, what is the problem?” James asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I was simply having a conversation with Saint about another matter. I apologize for interrupting you, James.”

James turned away and continued to talk. George looked back at Saint and winked.

* * *

“Are you sure you aren’t mad?” Xenia asked as she ran her fingers through the light splattering of Saint’s soft, dark chest hair. He held her tightly under the violet silk sheets as the glare from the television bathed them in soft, white light in the dim room.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked tenderly as he looked down at her. “Baby, this is what you want so whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy and doesn’t hurt you or us, I want it too.”