Deadly Saintes- The Complete Series, page 5
part #1 of Deadly Saintes Series
“Damn, Constance.”
“Damn, yourself.”
“No panties? You are a very bad girl.”
She chuckled. “I got what I came for, didn’t I?”
He kissed her. “You always get what you want.” He pushed away from the wall and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
Lawrence rolled onto his back. His leg shook for another few seconds before it settled into place. He pulled Constance close to his chest. “So when are you going to leave him?”
“I’m not ready.”
“So,” he kicked his legs to the edge of the bed, “when you do think you’ll be ready?” He stood, the sun shining on his nakedness gave his dark skin a golden hue.
“When I’m ready,” she said.
“Maybe we should cut this out until then.”
Constance raised an eyebrow. “Cut what out?”
“This,” he waved his finger between them. “All this love making we’ve been doing. Maybe we should stop. Since you’re embarrassed of me and whatnot.”
“I’m not embarrassed of you.” She got out of bed and put her arms around him. “I wanted to make sure this is real.”
“You wanna make sure this is real? Sweetness, it’s been real since you were eighteen. You just didn’t know it. How long have we been fucking?”
“I don’t like that word. I don’t just fuck you,” she said. “And it’s been three weeks.”
“Hmm. Our anniversary is coming up.” He went into the bathroom and started the shower.
Constance followed him. “This is a big ass shower.”
He kissed her. “I’m a big man. You know what?”
Constance ran her finger down his chest.“What?”
“It’s probably good that we haven’t told anyone about us yet with this whole family feud thing going on. We need a plan.”
She nodded. “We need to get RJ under control.”
Lawrence grunted. “What do you mean? Turn around.”
She turned, and he washed her back. “We need to drop this stuff with Daddy. There are only way two ways this could end. Both dead or in jail.”
“Or one of them dead and the other one in jail,” Lawrence said. “I’ll talk to him. It’s our weekly poker night.” His hands warmed as he rubbed them together, a cheesy grin on his face. “I’ll work this whole thing out.” His arms slid around her waist. “Then we can leave all this bullshit behind. And get married. And have a whole house full of babies.”
“Babies?”
“You don’t wanna be my baby momma?”
“I already have two kids, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Not my kids,” Lawrence scoffed. “From what I’ve seen, Jovan isn’t much of a father.”
“You’re ready to be a stepfather?”
“They come with you, right?”
Constance pressed her lips together. “Can I think about it?”
“Think fast.” He pressed himself into her. “Because I’m almost out of my child bearing years.”
“Kids or not, I love you.”
Lawrence cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I love you, too.”
Destiny felt a gloved hand over her mouth, and her eyes burst open. She pounded at her attacker’s chest until her arms were forced over her head. She managed to bite his finger.
The man hit her. “Stupid bitch.”
His slap caused her mouth to well with blood. She scratched and clawed at the mask, feeling for any softness. Feeling his features, she stopped at his eye, plunging a thumb deep inside.
“Fuck!”
Destiny pushed him backward and kicked him in the chest. . Scurrying out of the bed, the rough carpet drug into her palms and knees as she scampered into the bathroom. Locking the door, she threw herself into the closet.
The door rattled on the hinges as the intruder tried to punch through it. “Open this fucking door.”
“Who are you?”
“Open the door!”
“What do you want?” She threw her clothes out of the way. The shoeboxes she tossed aside held nothing that could help. “Where is it? Where is it?” Her neck popped as she looked in the direction of the splitting wood. “Come on. Come on.”
A loud crack sounded, the intruder appearing a second later. He barreled down on her, using her hair to yank her to her feet. “Get the fuck up.”
Destiny mustered all her strength as she swung her arm forward. Hitting the ground, she dragged herself forward, a glance over her shoulder allowing her to see the stiletto sticking out of the man’s side. Her hand was on the doorknob when she was snatched off her feet. On her back, she kicked her legs and flailed her arms, her screams muffled by the bloody gloved hand.
“Shut the fuck up.” Ripping his skin from between her teeth, the intruder punched her. He punched her again. Then again. And again. Red splotches blurred his vision. His teeth felt as if they were going to crack under the pressure he placed on them. The hand around Destiny’s throat held her in place. Her teeth cut through his glove, leaving her mark on his knuckles. Saliva leaked from the corners of his mouth, clinging onto his lips before landing wherever they may on her skin. He punched until his knuckles swelled, until his arm began to cramp. He kept swinging.
She stopped moving.
Her mouth fell open. Her eyes narrowed.
The intruder leaned over her, taking a moment to listen to her last breath. As he felt the final bit of life escape her, he stiffened in his pants. Climbing to his feet, he spit out the blood that filled his mouth, lint collecting on his tongue as he wiped it with the back of his hand. Straddling over her, he couldn’t but notice how beautiful she was.
While searching her pockets, his phone rang in his ear.
“How are you?”
“Mighty fine. Just got done cleaning up.”
“Good,” the voice said. “You know where to go?”
“I do. See you there in a little bit.”
It was Thursday night, and the regular poker game in the back of Joe’s Body Shop was in full swing. Joe Freeman had run the shop for the Saintes for nearly three decades. He fixed cars, but he made most of his money making things disappear. Hot guns, stolen cars. It didn’t matter. If it needed to be gone, Joe took care of it. Tonight was his first time hosting the game, and he had made sure that everything was top notch. The air in the room was thick with Cuban cigar smoke, and the table against the wall was stocked with sandwiches and premium liquor.
Lawrence pulled the pile of chips toward him. “Thank you gentlemen, for your generous donations.”
“That’s three hands in a row. You gotta be cheating, ” RJ said.
“He ain’t cheatin’,” Trey removed the clip from a chrome nine millimeter pistol and rested it on the table.
“It ain’t that serious.” Lawrence’s chuckle did nothing to hide his annoyance.
Joe grunted. “It is to him. You’re taking all his money.”
“But with this deal we got, I ain’t worried.” Trey replaced the clip before returning the gun back to his waist. “Ain’t that right big bro?”
No one spoke. Despite his attempts to keep cool, the vein in RJ’s temple bulged. His glare remained on Trey until he was satisfied that his message had been received. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I gotta piss.”
“I need to go, too,” Lawrence said, standing.
“What are we, females now? There a buddy system you ain’t tell me about?”
“Just making sure you don’t beat up nobody on the way.” Lawrence took another pull from his cigar and blew smoke in Trey’s direction. “I’ll be back for the rest of that.” He nodded at the stacks.
Trey leaned back so the bottom of the barrel glinted under the lights.
RJ opened the door that lead to the restrooms. Lawrence’s eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness. He followed RJ and slowed his pace to answer a text.
How’d it go?
About to ask him now. Update you in a lil bit.
I wish you could see how wet I am right now.
Show me.
He smiled at the wink emoji. He looked up and realized RJ was no longer in front of him.
“Over here, pretty boy.” RJ slipped inside the restroom.
Lawrence locked the door and joined RJ at the urinals. He let his head drop back and sighed as he relieved himself. “Man that feels good.”
“Better than Constance?”
Lawrence kept his eyes straight ahead. “You know?”
“She’s my baby sister. Of course I know. It didn’t make it hard to tell the way you drool over her.”
“I don’t drool. I’m a grown man.”
They finished and went to the sinks to wash their hands.
“It’s cool. I’m happy for you.” RJ held out his hand. “Come on, we’re already basically brothers.”
Lawrence shook his head and chuckled, slapping his hand into it. “You a nasty muthafucka.”
RJ’s face fell straight. His hand tightened. He yanked Lawrence closer, so that they were only inches apart. “We’re brothers now, but if so much as a tear falls from her eye, and you’re the reason, you can dead that shit.”
“You ain’t gotta worry about that, bruh. There isn’t anything in this world that can keep me from reminding her of the queen that she is. Every. Single. Day.”
The stare lasted several more seconds. Then a smile broke across RJ’s lips. “Welcome to the family L-Dog.”
“Don’t call me that again,” Lawrence said. “You forget who I am? I been in the family.” Lawrence cleared his throat. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Pop?”
“Yes. We need to settle this. This thing between you and him doesn’t need to continue. It can’t continue.”
RJ shot his paper towel into the trash can. “I’m not the man you need to be talking to. Pop made this happen when he tried to strong-arm his way back into control. As a matter of fact,” he said, “if I’m not mistaken, you had a hand in that.”
Drunken slurs and lazy knocks sounded through the door. “Come on man, I gotta piss.”
“I was just trying to protect the family. The business.”
“You wasn’t tryna protect the fuckin’ family,” RJ said. “You was tryna be the hero so you could fuck my sister.”
Lawrence grabbed RJ by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. “You will NOT talk about her like that. She may be your sister, but you won’t disrespect her in my presence.”
RJ struggled to break free, and hit Lawrence in the side of the head. Lawrence shook it off and slammed RJ against the wall again. He held RJ with his left hand and unleashed a vicious punch to his mouth. “Now you wanna fight somebody? Jovan’s punk ass has been cheating on her for years, and you wanna fight me? We’ve been friends a long time, RJ. Don’t try me.”
“Open the fucking door!” More bangs bounced off the walls.
Lawrence released RJ and brushed himself off. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. He barely had time to blink before a forearm was holding his face against the mirror. “What the fu –
“Don’t fucking move. Do you have any weapons, drugs, or other paraphernalia?”
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” RJ said. He looked in the hallway and saw Trey being carried off in handcuffs. “What is this?”
“Reginald Sainte Jr.?”
“You know it’s me.”
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Regina Crawford,” the officer said.
“Who the fuck is that?”
The officer held a picture in front of his face. “You might know her better by her stripper name Destiny Passion.” He gave the other officers a nod. “Get him out of here.”
Another officer read RJ his rights and led him out of the bathroom. RJ fought until he entered the main area, realizing that everyone was recording. Lowering his head, he stared at his feet as he walked out the doors, all eyes remaining on him until the cruiser car closed.
The first two calls to Constance that Lawrence tried to make went to straight to voicemail. He called again.
You have reached the voicemail of Constance Sainte –
“Shit.” A spiderweb crack spread from the center of the mirror. Blood dripped down the side of Lawrence’s hand as he followed behind the crowd.
Two crime scene technicians lifted the stiff cold body and carefully placed it into the bag. No one said anything as they carried it into the living room and out of the front door. Police officers and detectives scoured through the modest apartment, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
One of them snapped their fingers. “Got something.”
A detective joined the officer in the kitchen. “Whatcha got?”
“Phone. But it’s locked. iPhone, FaceID.”
Snatching it out of the officer’s hand, the detectives managed to catch the crime scene techs before they loaded the body into the back of their truck. “I need to see her face.” He covered his mouth as they unzipped the bag. He held the phone over the bloody mess. A check mark appeared on the screen, followed by a simple greeting.
Titus was looking over the impressive library when Reginald arrived. “Moby Dick.”
“Are you referring to my boyhood nickname,” Titus said, turning around.
“No, my favorite book.” Reginald took to his side of the desk and fell into his chair. Hopping right back up, he took the three steps to the bar and poured two glasses, handing one to Titus. “How are you doing, brother?”
“Good, now that I’m your brother again.”
“You played the part well. No one suspects a thing.” Reginald took a sip, his eyes rolling as he swallowed the tangy bitter liquid. “What’s the latest?”
“RJ just got picked up.”
Reginald smiled. “Very good.”
“There’s only one problem. The girl died.”
Reginald’s smile faded “That wasn’t the plan.”
Titus shrugged. “Things happen.”
“Murder? I want him on his knees, but that’s going too far.”
“You have enough judges and cops in your pocket. I know you can make it go away. What next?”
Reginald pulled on his blazer and stuffed his phone and keys into a pocket. “I’m up. Don’t do anything until I call you.”
Reginald’s heart hurt for the women and children coming to visit their loved ones. The peeling grey paint revealed the white bricks underneath. There was a stale order in the air. No one wanted to be there, he sure didn’t. His knees ached, the steel bench low to the ground. He wasn’t any different from anyone else. His money meant nothing. His lips didn’t curl as he picked up the phone. He didn’t care about the sticky substance coating the top of his ear.
RJ came around the corner, on the ball of his toes to keep from tripping. He closed his eyes, waiting for the guard to uncuff his wrists and ankles. A few seconds passed before he sat down and picked up the phone.
“How you doing, son?”
“I’m cool. How are you?”
“Better knowing that you’re okay. They haven’t - you’re not hurt are you?”
“Nothing but my pride.”
“I have some friends that owe me a favor. I’ll get the drug charges dropped. You’ll be out of here in a couple of days,” Reginald said.
“They ain’t get me for drugs.”
Reginald’s face dropped. “What?”
“Destiny’s dead, Pop. Somebody, killed her, beat her to death. I ain’t do it.”
Reginald observed the cuts on RJ’s hands and the marks on his face. “What happened to your hands?”
“Me and Lawrence got into a fight at the poker game. About Constance.” He noticed the lack of emotion in Reginald’s face. He looked at his knuckles. “I didn’t do this. I did not do this.”
“I gotta take a call.”
“Pop!” RJ stood, “Pop. I didn’t do this.”
Reginald jogged around the corner. His laughter erupted from his chest once the visiting booths were out of sight. He called Titus, using the time between the first ring and when he answered to catch his breath.
“Good to go?”
“Yes sir. Start cutting him out.”
“How much?”
Reginald tugged at his cuff. “All of it. Make it as he never existed.”
“Done,” Titus said.
Reginald took a few moments to reestablish his seriousness. Retaking his seat, he lowered his voice and eyes. “I talked to one of my contacts at the department. They found her phone. RJ –“
“Pop –”
“Let me finish. I’ve done my best to put you in the best position I could. I worked night and day, missed birthdays and holidays building something so you wouldn’t have a care in the world when I’m gone. You’ve done nothing but throw it back in my face. You’ve spit on your vows. Ruined a good woman. I should’ve made you work instead of giving you everything.” He raised his index finger and cut off RJ’s protest. “If I had made you earn everything, you would have learned responsibility. I’ve covered all your mistakes, made them disappear when I should have let you live with the consequences. I wasn’t hard enough on you and I take blame for that. I can’t save you. I will not save you. It’s time for you man the fuck up.” Reginald stood, hanging the phone back on the receiver. He picked it up again. “You deserve death for putting your hands on a woman.” Reginald put the phone back in place and stood.
The glass silenced RJ’s protests, rendering him speechless.
Reginald walked away and never looked back.
7
“Hello, is this Mr. Titus Webster Jr.?”
“This is he. With whom am I speaking?”
“Detective Jordan. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions, it will only take a couple minutes of your time.”
“How can I help you Detective?” Titus asked. After putting the call on speaker, he sat the phone in the middle of his desk, taking a seat.
Reginald sat opposite of him listening intently, his fingers coming to a point just underneath his bottom lip.
