by Sable Hunter
“Yea, I know. I’m just worried.”
“How’s Sami?”
“She’s the same. Everyone is fine here, considering everything. There’s just confusion in the air. Everybody is tense. I keep watch on Sami like a hawk. I don’t want to alert Jet that anything’s wrong because there’s not – I’m just afraid the doctors or nurses will overlook something in the middle of this mayhem.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Saxon offered, wishing he could be in two places at once.
“Just find this damn killer.”
“I’ll do my best. Is there anything else I should know?” Saxon felt antsy. He looked over his shoulder to see Alivia pointing to the shower. He nodded for her to use it first while he talked to Micah.
“Well, the Calvary’s on its way.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes stuck on a very naked, very beautiful Alivia in his shower. “FEMA?”
Micah laughed. “Oh, hell, no. FEMA will come, I’m sure, but this group is far more colorful and far more effective. I’m talking about the Cajun Navy. Beau LeBlanc and his crew are on their way to town. They’ll be using their airboats to rescue the stranded and help out where they can.”
“They’ll be invaluable, I’m sure.” He knew Beau would be bringing Patrick O’Rourke, Revel Lee Jones, T-Rex Beaumont, Lucas Wagner, and others. “If you see Spicer Ford, would you tell him to answer his damn phone sometimes. I’ve lost contact with him completely. Find out if he’s changed numbers or if he’s mad at me or something.”
“I will. I talked to Titus this morning. He’s on his way to meet up with you. I also talked to Victoria this morning, and she’s planning on getting Alivia set up to attend some pre-pageant parties. I need you all in Richardson with your eyes and ears open. I don’t want another contestant to die. We need to find this guy with some old-fashioned police work, even if we have to use Alivia’s fancy programs to do it.”
Saxon understood. “We’re going back to the drawing board to see what we can figure out about the dead priest. There’s something we’re not seeing. The connecting evidence is overwhelming, yet I know our killer isn’t a damn ghost.”
“Just do it, Saxon. You know our motto.”
“Yea, I do. Whatever it takes.” Saxon hung up just as Alivia stepped out of the shower. He felt the urge to lick every drop of water glistening on her body. “God, you’re gorgeous. I wish things were different. I’d take you to bed and keep you there for a month, but we’ve got work to do.”
* * *
“Okay, this is the plan.” Saxon sat across from Alivia as they went over their notes. This was a repeat of a scene they’d played out any number of times over the last few days. The only difference now was that they touched one another at every opportunity. Casual touches. Seemingly accidental touches. Even on purpose, just-because-I-can touches. “You’re going to work miracles with your program and find out everything there is to know about Father Curtiss Murray. Meanwhile, I’m going to research all the cold cases to see if any of them match our more recent ones as far as clues are concerned.”
“Yea, you might have to dig deep into the paperwork to find any mention of a card with a name on it. If there was one left at any of the murder sites, I hope it wasn’t overlooked or lost in an evidence room.” Alivia settled down at Saxon’s desk, making herself at home.
Saxon loved to see her sitting there. Gone were the days when he resented sharing anything with her. “All right, let’s see what we can find.” He gave her a kiss before making himself comfortable on the couch with his laptop resting on the coffee table.
After an hour and a half, Alivia chunked a wadded-up piece of paper at Saxon. “I found something on Murray.”
Saxon placed his computer down and stood up to come to her. “What is it?”
Alivia tapped her screen. “Two things. Father James was right. I found Murray’s death certificate. He died of AIDS in 2005. So, he couldn’t be our killer on any of the murders after that, yet they continued. I was able to trace his movements for a few years before his death. Like the Father said, he was at a Catholic boy’s school and before that, he was a parish priest in a tiny town of only two hundred people called Reynolds. The church was so small, part of his duties was to run the town post office, sort of a double-duty thing.” She glanced at Saxon. “I guess his fall from grace manifested itself in this less than plum assignment.”
“I don’t guess there were any murders in Reynolds while he was there?”
“No, but I did find an odd database online, it’s called Publicly Accused, and it contains information on priests and nuns. I’ve sent a request to the owner to merge it with Dragnet, but Murray is in there, and the accusation ties in with his time at the boy’s school.”
“Let me see.” Saxon sat on the edge of his desk, so he could see the screen of Alivia’s computer.
“Father Murray was accused of an indecent relationship with a young boy named John Adams, an orphan at the school.” She frowned and glanced up at Saxon. “The odd thing is that Adams didn’t make the accusation himself, some of the other boys housed at the same home did.”
“On his behalf?”
“I guess.” Alivia followed a link for testimony in the accusation. “Look, there is testimony from several different people.”
Saxon leaned closer to read. “Two former inhabitants of the Saint Timothy’s School for Boys filed a complaint against Father Curtiss Murray for improper conduct with a younger student. There were signed affidavits testifying to the fact that several witnessed unsavory intimate acts between the father and the boy.”
“Ewww, unsavory, I don’t even want to imagine.” Alivia sighed.
“We need to trace down anyone who worked at Saint Timothy’s to see if they can shed any light on this matter,” Saxon suggested.
“I agree. How about you, did you find anything?”
“Maybe.” Saxon moved back to the computer. “I was reviewing a case in 1998, one of the cold cases you found. The woman’s name was Matilda Hanks. She was a former Mrs. America, a beauty contestant for married women. There was a word written on the mirror, but blood wasn’t used to write it.”
Alivia rose to see a photograph of the mirror. “R-e-m-o-g.”
“Well, since that’s a mirror, it would be g-o-m-e-r. Gomer. I’ve tried switching the letters out, but I can’t make it spell anything that makes sense. The only Gomer I can think of was Gomer Pyle, Goober’s cousin on the old Andy Griffith show.”
“Gomer. Gomer. Where have I heard that name before?” She returned to the desk and started searching in a browser. “I used to hate when my mother made me go to church. She used the time that I was there to carry on with her boyfriends. At least some of what I heard stuck. Look.” She turned the screen around. “The clue wasn’t scrambled in this case. Gomer was a harlot who was married to the prophet Hosea. God required him to marry her and have children with her. When she kept straying, God commanded Hosea to take her back each time. The prophet’s marriage was supposedly a picture of how God takes back his unfaithful people every time they sin.”
“This is weird shit, Hart.” Saxon rose to pace the room. “I’d say this proves the cases are connected.”
“Yes, but I’d give anything for fingerprint evidence.” She began pacing the room. “Were fingerprints found at any of the cold cases?”
“Let me check.” Saxon scrolled back through the list. “Yes. Yes, there was. In 1999, a woman named Helena Tatum was murdered in Wichita Falls, Texas. She was a local beauty queen…” He read the details. “Same MO, strangled. There was no report of a clue, but they did find a viable fingerprint on an ID bracelet she wore around her wrist. The flat shiny surface contained one clear thumbprint, which didn’t match anyone in her sphere of family and friends. They weren’t able to match the print to any criminal database at the time.”
“Dang.” Alivia walked up behind Saxon to idly run her fingers through his hair. “Hmmm, well maybe it showed up later. Why don�
��t we run it again?”
“Good idea.”
Saxon went to work, while Alivia took a much-needed bathroom break. As she took care of business and washed her hands, thoughts of what the next few days would hold ran through her mind. Admittedly, she was much more nervous about being a contestant than being in danger from the killer. She only had the faintest idea of what she would do in the talent competition. But that wasn’t her most pressing problem. Finding this killer before he struck again had to be her focus. As she held her hands underneath one of those automatic air dryers, Alivia realized she didn’t look forward to this case closing. How bent was that? Getting this murderer off the streets had to be paramount. But what would happen to her and Saxon? She knew they had a good time together, they had more in common than most couples, but they were both cut from the same cloth – the kind of people who didn’t commit. Would they continue to see one another for a while? Or just pick up where they left off and go their separate ways? She shivered at the thought.
…Meanwhile, in Houston, Micah was standing on the steps of the hospital, looking out over a river of debris, a river that used to be a city street. He lifted his hand in salute as two airboats made their way slowly toward him. “Hey, Coonass!”
A big man with shoulder length dark hair waved back. “Hey, Big Bad, how’s the little cher? She awake yet?”
Micah stepped down one more step to greet Beau LeBlanc and his entourage. “Good to see you swamp rats.” He shook Beau’s hand. “No, Sami’s still hasn’t regained consciousness. Jet’s with her.”
Beau turned to help his wife out of the boat. “Harley, honey, if you want to go on upstairs, go ahead.”
“Hello, Harley.” Micah greeted the pretty brunette. “They’re in Room 214. You’ll have to take the stairs, though. None of the elevators are working.”
“Thanks, Micah. How’s Madison?” she asked, stepping up under the roof and out of the direct downpour.
“She’s good. She’s with Jet’s baby and some other of our group across the street in a hotel room.” Each time he met Harley LeBlanc, he was struck anew by how contradictory her looks were from her abilities. No one would ever guess when they met the fragile looking female that she was former Navy Ops, one of the premier bomb experts in the business. “How is your little boy?”
Harley beamed. “He’s great. I left him with Beau’s cousin Dandi and her little girl Lucy.” She motioned toward the others. “I told Lucas and Patrick that we’ll have to come back over to spend some time with all of you when things calm down.”
“I agree.” Micah grasped Patrick O’Rourke’s shoulder. “What are you and Savannah doing these days?”
Patrick tied the boat to a parking meter. “Oh, we’re both working. Staying busy.”
“Still chasing spirits?” Micah asked good-humoredly.
“Yea, you got a ghost we need to banish?”
Micah thought of the Jaguar. “Yea, unfortunately, he’s not dead. Yet.” He pointed at the man behind Patrick. “I see you brought Gator Bait with you?”
“Hey, watch it, Wolfe. The last time we clashed, I beat you soundly.” Revel pushed the hood of his poncho back.
“In chess, it’s not like you challenged me to a duel,” Micah muttered. They walked over to the other boat, while Beau escorted his wife to the doors of the hospital to make sure she traversed safely through the debris.
“If I did, you’d have a few extra holes in you.” His expression suddenly changed from fierce to friendly. “How’s Madison, she still keeping you in line?”
Micah held up his little finger. “I have her wrapped around this.”
Revel laughed. “I bet it’s the other way around. Anyway, Harper asked me to extend an invitation for the two of you to visit when things settle down.”
“I’ll tell her. She’ll give Harper a call soon.” Micah pointed at another man who was tugging off a pair of rubber boots. “Who’s this giant? I didn’t think there were Sasquatch in the swamp.”
T-Rex Beaumont shot Micah a playful finger. “Better a man with big feet than a mangy Loup Garou.” He handed the man next to him a bottle of water. “Spicer, you know Micah Wolfe, don’t you?”
Spicer Ford didn’t smile. “Yea, we’ve met.”
Micah was taken aback by the chill he could feel coming from the big mechanic. “Good to see you, Ford. Saxon wanted me to tell you to call him. He’s lost your number or something.”
“He didn’t lose it.” Spicer said nothing more, just turned his back on Micah and knelt by the engine.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” T-Rex said as he stepped off the airboat next to Micah. “He’s a man of few words.” Once they were out of earshot, T turned his back on Spicer. “You know he was a cop after he left the service. Got shot in the line of duty. He owns every commendation medal they give, and a few special ones invented just for him.” With a guarded look over his shoulder to make sure Ford was where they left him, T continued, “He took early retirement, but he hasn’t been able to let go of his last case.”
“What kind of case?” Micah was more than curious about the man he knew only by reputation.
“I think it started out as a child abuse case, but it turned out to be huge. By the time they closed it, there was everything mixed in from politics to voodoo.”
“Huh.” Micah studied Spicer’s stoic form. “He sure is acting like something is bothering him.”
“Yea, something’s wrong, but he’s not talking about it,” T said as he nudged Micah toward the hospital doors. “Let’s just leave him be. He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
“Well, if he needs help, all he has to do is ask.”
By the time T and Micah made it to the second floor, the group was gathered in the waiting room. Beau sat next to Jet. “I’ve never seen anything like this except during Katrina. Can you imagine? Nine trillion gallons of water has fallen here. I think that equals nine days of water flow from the mouth of the Mississippi. We’ve been all through the city rescuing people and delivering supplies. We’ll keep a presence here as long as we’re needed.”
Jet listened, but his face was strained and pale. “I wish I could do more, but right now, I’m needed here.”
Harley sat next to him, rubbing his shoulder. “Of course, you’re right where you’re supposed to be.” She picked up a photo from the table. “So, this is Axel?”
Jet beamed as they studied a picture of his newborn son. “Yea, he’s a good one. I think he’s already gained a pound.” He looked up at Micah. “Madison and Hannah are taking good care of him.” His gaze moved to the double doors that led out into the hall. “But he misses his mama.”
“I know he does.” Harley picked up another object from the table, a cross necklace. “Does this belong to Sami?”
Jet nodded. “Yea, she couldn’t wear her jewelry during surgery. I made sure her wedding ring was put back where it belonged, but I didn’t want to disturb her rest to get the necklace back in place.”
“May I?” Harley held up the necklace.
Everyone grew quiet because they all knew what Harley could do. “I was born with a caul over my face, Jet. I have the sight. Sometimes I see what has gone before, and sometimes I see what is to come.”
No one said a word as Harley shut her eyes. She rubbed the necklace between her fingers and smiled. “Oh, I see many happy years ahead.”
Jet sat up straighter. “You see that? In the necklace?”
Harley winked at him. “Yes, but I also see a happy look on your doctor’s face. That has to be a good sign, right?”
Jet jumped up to meet the doctor. “How is she, Doc?”
“She’s awake. There’s no sign of any brain damage, and the last MRI we did showed no evidence of a tumor.”
Jet slumped, and Micah rushed to hold him up. “See? I told you everything would be okay.”
“I need to see her.”
Harley put an arm around Jet, and accompanied him and the doctor to Sami’s room.
; “I think we need her to enlist with the Equalizer’s.” Micah nodded toward Harley.
Beau shook his head. “I can’t let her get too involved, Wolfe. Each time she opens herself up like that, it takes something away, weakens her. Some things she sees don’t seem to bother her, but evil…” He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head again. “I want her as far away from evil as I can get her.” Micah couldn’t argue with Beau concerning Harley, he felt the same way about Madison.
They all stayed nearby until Jet learned Sami could go home soon. To their relief, she was alert and asking for her child. Micah phoned Tyson to bring Madison, baby Axel, and Hannah to the hospital.
After the good news, their Cajun friends readied themselves to rejoin the team who was working so hard to save the city. Before they left, Micah was surprised to see Spicer come forward holding out a scrap of paper. “Have Abbott call me when he’s free.”
“I will,” Micah assured him as he took what he realized was a small sealed envelope. Before he could say more, the big mechanic turned on his heels and left the room.
Once they were alone with Sami, while they were waiting for Tyson and the others to make their way across the flooded street, Jet broke down and cried. “I was so afraid.”
“Don’t let him cry, Micah. Everything’s going to be okay, Jet,” Sami whispered, weak and groggy from the medicine.
“She’s right, the worst is over, Jet. All you need to do is get your family out of Houston.” Micah weighed his words carefully. “Considering the damage to the city, why don’t y’all go to Florida and spend a few days with your dad?”
“How about the investigation? Can’t I help?” Jet asked, but Micah could see the hope in his eyes.
“I think we can handle it. Saxon and Alivia are working steadily on the investigation. Tyson and Titus will be going with me to provide firepower. In addition, Chief Banks has arranged for us to have the full cooperation of the Dallas/Fort Worth police department. Plus, Kyle’s going to make sure we have all the help we need for security and crowd control.”
“All right, if you’re sure.”
