When Saint Goes Marching In

by Laveen, Tiana

Stanley hopped back in his car and drove off, his tires screeching down the street, leaving black marks all the way. And these were the frustrated paw prints of a deranged serial killer…

  * * *

  “Great show, girl!” Xenia’s friend and co-personality Traci complimented. “I’m going to my office now. I’ll see you later, OK?” She reached down and hugged Xenia before she disappeared out of the control booth, leaving Xenia to her own thoughts.

  Xenia sighed and put her head down on the desk surface but popped back up as she heard her phone vibrating.

  “Hey Stacey, I haven’t spoken to you in a minute!” Xenia said happily as she heard another friend’s voice on the other end. She waved to another employee who was walking out of the studio.

  “Hey lady! It’s been a minute. I never want to go to Afghanistan again. I just got back to San Fran two days ago. It was a journalistic learning experience, that’s for sure. How are you doing? I haven’t gotten any recent text messages or pictures of the fam.”

  “Hey, just been kind of busy.” Xenia gulped, fearing Stacey’s reaction to her marital woes.

  * * *

  Ted looked at all the doors and tried to find the one for the radio station. “Here it is!” he said when he spotted a large oak door. He hoped he wasn’t too late. The show had just ended. He turned the knob and walked inside the waiting area.

  No one sat at the front desk. Everyone must have dipped, damn!

  Suddenly, he heard Xenia speaking softly. Relieved, he made his way to the closed door where the studio was. He peered into the small square window and saw the top of her head. He could hear her clearly now.

  Ted pushed on the door, opening it only a couple of inches before he stopped as he heard her say, “Yes divorced, Stacey. I’m getting divorced.” Xenia uttered. She looked around the studio to ensure no one was around and put her phone on speaker while she gathered her belongings.

  “Oh my God, Xenia! Why didn’t you tell me?” The other woman’s voice was drowned by intermittent static over the phone. “I’m so sorry that it ended like this. I really thought you two were meant to be, after I spent more time around him. He really seemed like he had changed and that he loved you.”

  “I thought so too, but you were right all along, Stacey.” Xenia wiped her runny nose. “I saw it with my own eyes. This bitch was riding him like a pony, smiling and going to town. It was his ex-girlfriend. He had the nerve to tell me she drugged his drink. He must think I’m a fuckin’ fool!” she snapped.

  “Well, wait a minute, Xenia. He does have a lot of women that are pissed at him and some are mad he got married. I told you about that years ago but you didn’t want to hear it. It was when we got into that huge argument right after your wedding.”

  Xenia was quiet for a minute while she reflected. “Right, but to drug him? Yeah, right! You don’t hear of any women doing that to guys, especially to Saint. They’d probably be afraid he’d beat their ass once he gained consciousness. I know I would be!” Xenia said sarcastically. “Saint is making that shit up and he would never be so stupid as to put his drink down somewhere like he said. He is the most paranoid person I’ve ever known. He always thinks someone is trying to invade his privacy and he should be cautious, especially after getting shot, so I know he wouldn’t leave no damn drink on a bar table!”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Stacey sighed. “This is one time I don’t like being right, Xenia, please believe me. I mean, he is the father of your children now. You two have so much invested in each other. It still is kind of hard for me to believe that the man could do something like this to you. He seemed totally devoted and head over heels for you. I guess people really don’t change after all.”

  The conversation continued. Ted shook his head in disbelief and waited outside of the door until it was completely over.

  I’ve got to think of a plan to get his information.

  As he looked down, wondering how he was going to do it, he spotted a small package sitting outside of the door. He picked it up and quickly ripped the sticker off the front of it, then ran back to the front lobby, took an ink pen off of the reception desk and wrote Saint’s home address on it. As he approached the door again, Xenia was coming out.

  “Shit!” she gasped. She put her head down and smiled, shaking it. “You scared me.”

  She locked the door behind her.

  “I’m sorry ma’am. I was running late but I have a package here for a Mister Saint Aknaten.”

  “Must be the divorce papers,” she murmured, then said, “Yes, that’s my husband,” in a louder tone. “Where’s the paper for me to sign?”

  “I was in such a hurry ma’am, I left everything in the car. I just wanted to drop it off to him and this address was listed as a second point of contact. He wasn’t home but I was told I had to deliver this today. He needs to sign this personally.”

  Her expression suddenly changed. She frowned and fisted her hands. “You know what, you make sure he gets those,” she spat. “Let me give you his hotel information. He is out of town. They’ll need to be mailed out of state.”

  “No problem, ma’am. We have people all over the country that can handle that for us. He should get it first thing in the morning.”

  “Good.”

  She dug in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here you go, make sure he gets it as soon as possible,” she urged. “His ass wasn’t even going to be home to sign off on this shit. I’ll make sure he is available. She reached back inside her purse and handed Ted a tip.

  Ted shoved it into his pocket, feeling guilty but knowing he had to continue to play the role.

  “Thank you ma’am, I will take care of this immediately.”

  Ted looked at the address as he quickly made his way toward the elevator doors.

  Denver Colorado? It must be another white boy conference.

  He made it down to the main building first floor, took out his cell phone and called his grandfather. “Granddad, I’m ‘bout to go on a road trip.”

  * * *

  Saint sat in the hotel room and looked at his laptop files. Sorting through each of them, he found the document he was looking for – “Men’s Conference in Louisiana.”

  He read to himself, going over the documents carefully and devising a plan as to what topics he’d cover. He read the agenda and jotted down notes on the side. After two hours worth of reading and deliberating on his hotel bed, he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. As the clock struck eleven, he yawned and happily accepted the rare treat of actually feeling sleepy. He closed his eyes and drifted away into odd dreams and periods of nothing but blackness. A few hours later, there was a soft knock at his door.

  Saint stirred in the bed, the sheets wrapped snugly around his long body.

  I must be dreaming.

  The knock came again. Saint opened his eyes and peered at the clock on the hotel nightstand. Three AM – damn! He sat straight up in the bed, his eyes narrowed as he inhaled the air. He couldn’t smell anything; it couldn’t be Stanley. I’d know that stench a mile away.

  Saint grabbed his gun from under the pillow and hid it behind his back as he slid off the bed wearing only his silk pajama pants and approached the door barefoot.

  He looked out the peephole. The man who stood in the hotel hallway, his back to him, was nervously shifting on his feet. Long locks dropped down to the middle of his back.

  “Ted?” Saint yelled out, his deep voice reverberating through the closed door. He snatched the door open and looked Ted in his eye. “How in the hell did you know where I was and what are you doing here?” he asked angrily.

  Ted looked at him uncertainly, his eyes wide, shame marked on his face.

  “Get your ass in here!” Saint barked, and yanked Ted inside by his jacket collar. He slammed the hotel room door so hard it shook the walls. Ted stared at the gun and swallowed hard.

  “Ted, this better be earth shattering because you…”

  “You called me a few weeks ago,” Ted inte
rrupted. “I needed to speak to you, face to face, man to man.”

  “How in the world did you even find out where I was? My own boss doesn’t know where the hell I am, and that’s on purpose!” Saint snatched the laptop off his bed and put it away.

  “Your wife,” Ted answered. “I needed to know where you were, so I told her I had an important package for you.”

  “And she gave you the information, just like that? She knows I’m here for something important and confidential. Thanks, Xenia. It’s official, she truly hates my guts.” Saint felt his mood slipping, getting darker. “She doesn’t even know you. You could have been a hit man coming to get me. So much for loyalty.” He shook his head in disbelief, the last remnants of sleep now completely gone. “What do you need, Ted? I really need to try and get some shut eye. I have to be up and out of here in a few hours.” Exasperated, Saint lie back down across the bed, his hand across his bare chest.

  “I wanted to thank you for calling me to warn me again, a few months ago. You’ve saved my life now three times. I needed to tell you to your face, Saint. My wife is pregnant with our first child, our little girl, and if I’m dead, no one will be around to protect them. Those guys did come after me, just like you said, but luckily I was prepared. The second time it was about money. That’s the part I didn’t tell you but you knew it somehow. I owed him over ten grand and he put so much interest on it, it swelled to twenty thousand by the time a year had passed. He was going to kill me and he meant business and then all of a sudden, ten thousand dollars showed up for me right in the nick of time. I know you sent it, Saint. I have no idea why you keep bailing me out when I tried to kill you and your wife, but I’m grateful.” Ted’s voice shook as he spoke.

  Saint exhaled a breath. “Yes Ted, I know you are. You didn’t need to come all this way to tell me that, but it’s fine. Now would you please leave?”

  “No,” Ted said as he shoved his hands in his pocket.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?” Saint sat up. He was getting annoyed.

  “I owe you and I came to deliver. So, you name it. Tell me what I can do. I will never be able to fully pay you back but I need to start somewhere,” Ted shrugged as he pushed his hands in his jean pockets.

  Saint shook his head. “Ted, I don’t help people to get something in return. I knew that you didn’t really want to kill me and Xenia; you were practically still a child back then and you didn’t know what you were doing. The sad part is that there are men, much older than you, with that same mentality and their development is seriously arrested. Trust and believe, if I felt you were a danger to myself or society, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now…because you’d be unable to.”

  Ted nodded. “Exactly, and that’s why I’m here.” Ted approached Saint’s bed. “Not to get into your mix, but I’m sorry about you and Xenia. I know how much you love her.”

  “What? So now Xenia is telling everyone our personal business, even strangers?” Saint frowned. “I told her where I was because she has my children and needs to know these things. But now I don’t even think I can do that anymore. She has put me in danger and even our private matters are out for display. This is…”

  “No, not like that. She was talking to someone on the phone and I overheard it,” Ted explained.

  Saint calmed down. “Oh.”

  “You got set up,” Ted said. “I got peeps that can take care of the female, if you need that.”

  “I’m sure you do, Ted, but if I wanted her taken care of, I would’ve done it myself. Her ass isn’t worth going after because the damage is done now. Don’t you think I’ve already fantasized about makin’ her pay for this shit? She knows what she did and she isn’t going to try to fix this by fessing up. If she thinks that I need her help to make this right, she’ll actually make it worse just to spite me. She got what she wanted and now she’s done.” Saint shrugged. “She knows I’m not going back to her so she settled for what was behind door number two, second prize strikes again.”

  “Second prize?” Ted asked.

  Saint shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “How are you so sure though? If she could drug you, screw you, call your wife on your own cell phone and invite her out to see it then walk away like ain’t shit happen, you don’t really know what she is capable of,” Ted suggested.

  Saint nodded. “Yeah, you’d think, but I actually know Payton very well so none of this is a surprise. She is very text book. She moves to a pattern and doesn’t deviate. I know why she is the way she is and I know she is a sore loser. I also know that once she is paid off, once she feels revenge has been exacted, she moves on. I can’t waste my time on her; I need to focus on my mar…I have no marriage anymore, what am I talking about?” Saint closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

  Ted exhaled and looked at the ground then over at the mini-refrigerator. “I thought you’d be in a better hotel than this,” he joked.

  Saint shrugged. “It’s OK. I needed this one because it’s close to the business I need to handle.”

  “Well, let me help you! Tell me what you’re working on. I don’t care if it is another white boy conference, I’ll assist you.” Ted offered.

  “No Ted, this is different and it isn’t anything anyone can tag team on. I have to do it on my own, but thank you for the offer and with that, let me open the door so I can help you leave.” Saint stood up and jogged to the hotel door.

  Ted was made to leave. “I will pay you back, Saint, whether you want me to or not. Everyone needs help sometimes, even someone like you.” He offered a salute and walked back out to the hotel hallway as Saint softly closed the door behind him.

  Saint looked at the clock. He had some time left. Yawning, he climbed back under the covers.

  OK Stanley, what do you have planned for us today? Saint thought as he drifted to sleep. Is today the day I break your neck?

  * * *

  Saint woke up in a cold sweat and immediately raced to the hotel bathroom. He looked in the mirror and checked out his face. His pupils were dilated, the whites of eyes slowing turning from red to white and his heart rate unsteady.

  “Jesus!” he screamed as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. “I really didn’t want to see that.”

  He started the water for a quick shower, making it cooler than comfortable.

  So that is what you have planned for them, Stanley? It’s even worse than I imagined.

  Saint tried to shake the images out of his head to no avail. Visions of Stanley smearing Sergeant Kane’s wife blood all over his body made him retch. Saint stood under the cold water, allowing it to shock his senses as he rubbed his personal beige loofah across the dips and curves of his body. He rinsed and dried off quickly. Then he raced to his luggage and pulled out another pair of jeans and a fresh black long-sleeved shirt. He grabbed his New York Yankees baseball cap, slid on his Rolex, and pocketed his cell phone and keys. After he’d secured the gun to his person, he rushed to the rental car place and replaced the current car, just in case. He didn’t want to give himself away at the last minute.

  “Come on, come on, come on!” he said through gritted teeth as he moved through the Denver Colorado traffic on his way back to Stanley’s motel. A sense of urgency gripped him and his heart sank.

  His fears were confirmed when he didn’t see Stanley’s car.

  “Shit!” He hit the steering wheel in anger and made his way to the Kane residence, racing against the clock.

  Saint pulled up and immediately felt relief when he saw that Stanley was parked a couple houses down from the condo, and he still sat in his car, waiting for the right time to strike.

  “OK,” Saint exhaled. “I see you now.” He parked across the street and watched. Saint tipped his hat downward when Sergeant Kane came out of the house to throw some trash away, then re-entered the residence.

  After fifteen or so additional minutes, Stanley got out of his car, popped the trunk and removed his murdering treasures, placing them carefully into a
large, black duffle bag. The sun had still not made an appearance. Under the brisk, cold duskiness, only dark grays provided a ceiling between Heaven and Earth. Saint covered his nose as he got out of his car and knelt down behind another parked car, watching Stanley’s every move.

  His stomach churned from the overpowering stench. The scent of hatred was at times too much to bear, even for Saint who had developed immunity to it after the incident at his house years prior. Stanley, however, had a brand new kind of hatred that Saint had not been accustomed to before, and whenever he got a whiff, it took all of his self-control to not spill his breakfast right out onto the concrete.

  Stanley approached the front door of the Kane residence. He scanned the area, checking to ensure no one was around, then knocked on the door. Saint’s heart kicked so hard, it felt like it would burst out his chest and land right in front of him. He ran his hand over his face and concentrated solely on what was playing out. Saint watched as Kane came to the door. Initially, he looked surprised then he smiled.

  He is taking him up on his offer to come by for more information about the army. How unusual that he would invite you to his home. You must have really thrown on the charm.

  Stanley was in luck. Originally, he was going to just fuck Kane’s wife, torture her and kill her. Now, he got two for the price of one, just like Saint’s dream showed him.

  Oh, yes, let’s get this on and poppin’.

  Saint readjusted his gun in the holster and walked over to the condominium. He made his way to a spot in the back of the house. Using an overgrown bush as concealment, he listened intently. He could hear voices, but not the dialogue.

  Suddenly, he heard what sounded like a chair being knocked over, followed by a muffled scream and someone running. Saint raced to the front door and pulled on it. It was locked. He stood back, pulled his gun out and shot the side of the door knob, causing it to hang loosely. He kicked the door the rest of the way open, keeping his gun out in front of himself, then he pressed his back against the wall and slid slowly around and inside the house.