Deadly Saintes- The Complete Series, page 7
part #1 of Deadly Saintes Series
“Not really.”
“Well you’re gonna see it anyway. Don’t forget your coffee.”
Mackenzie was leaning over on the tech’s back when Jordan arrived. “Pull it up.”
A map appeared on the computer screen. Two red dots symbolized the two phones. The distance was 20 miles.
“That’s her house,” Jordan said.
“Correct. Do you know the other place?”
“No, but it seems familiar. That’s because we talked to the guy that owns it.” Mackenzie dropped a file on the desk. The edges of his smile peeked from around his cup.
Jordan flipped over the top. He looked from the photo to Jordan and back. “No way. He couldn’t be that dumb.”
“Look at the next page.”
The page showed all of the calls that had taken place between the numbers. Over 200 in the last five months.
“I want to bring him in for a second round of questioning, but if you’re too tired…”
“Let’s go get that son of a bitch.” The empty coffee cup thumped against the bottom of the trash can.
Titus pulled into the driveway for the second time in two days. The smell of rain still hung in the air. He didn’t have to knock as RJ had pulled the door open as soon as he reached the front porch.
“Thanks for coming, Unc.”
“Had to. You sounded terrible on the phone. Everything alright?”
“She left.”
“Chanel?” Titus asked. He sat in one of the large armchairs. “What happened? That doesn’t seem like something she would do. It is because of –“
“Destiny.” RJ’s head dropped. Chanel found out that I was still involved with her.”
“Involved how? Don’t tell me you were –”
“Yeah. Just a couple of times though. I didn’t mean for her to find out. I don’t even know how she found out.” RJ began pacing, rubbing his hands into his scalp. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if she’s coming back. I don’t know where she is.”
“Calm down.”
RJ picked up a glass of vodka and drained it. “I can’t fucking calm down. My wife just left me.” He threw the glass at the wall and burst into tears when it shattered. “Shit. Chanel’s gonna kill me. She loves those glasses.”
Titus grabbed him by the shoulders. “Calm down.” He demonstrated how to slow his breath, slowly breathing in and out. “Breathe, nephew. You can’t think straight when there’s no blood flowing to your brain.” Guiding RJ to the couch, he sat down next to him, keeping a hand on his shoulder until his chest was no longer heaving. “Good. Now tell me what happened.”
“She was waiting after you dropped me off. Then she asked me if I was still seeing Destiny.”
“Did you lie?”
“I wasn’t seeing her.”
“You just told me that you fucked her a couple of times,” Titus said.
“Yeah, but the last time was a while ago. I was tryna break it off. She was threatening to tell. That’s how she found out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Destiny must have told her before she died.” RJ bolted to his feet. “If that bitch wasn’t already dead –”
“Watch your mouth. Besides, we don’t even know that’s how she found out.”
“It is. Wait, whatchu mean it don’t matter?”
“I’m saying it doesn’t matter how she found out because even if I told her, it wouldn’t have changed anything. What matters is that you didn’t tell her when she asked you.”
RJ’s mouth dropped open. “You’re tryna put this on me.”
“Well nephew, it is your fault. You stuck your dick where it didn’t belong and now your actions have come back to bite you in the ass.” Titus stood, pulling his blazer straight. “I gotta get going,” he said, heading for the door. Turning around, he placed his hand on RJ’s shoulders. “You know I’m always here for you. And I always got your back. But I’m not the one that will absolve you of blame when something you did is completely your fault. Men own up to their mistakes. Men accept the consequences of their actions.” Titus was still facing RJ when he pulled the door open.
Detective Jordan flashed his badge. “Mr. Webster Jr.?”
“Detective Jordan. I thought we were on friendly enough ground that we can call each other by our first names.”
“Titus. Would you mind coming to the station with us?”
“If you were by yourself, then yes. But I don’t know this gentleman.”
“Detective Mackenzie. His partner.” He flashed his badge, holding his jacket open long enough to Titus to see the butt of his gun. “Like he said, you need to come with us.”
“He said would I mind.”
“Titus, you’re a reasonable man. We just want to ask you some questions,” Jordan said.
“I already gave you my statement. I assume my alibi checked out. Did you talk with my family?”
“We did.”
“Then I don’t see why I need to come with you or answer any of your questions. And to answer your question, I would mind. My nephew is going through a rough time right now and I need to be with him.” Titus retreated further into the house. “Now if you’ll excuse us – he began closing the door.
Mackenzie’s hand stopped it. “Fine, we can do this here. But I’m sure your nephew would be more than interested in knowing why you called his girlfriend over 200 times in the last five months.”
“The three of us were in business together.”
“Does he know that you and her were texting constantly the week before she died?”
Titus didn’t answer. The fire from RJ’s glare scorched the back of his neck. “Can I follow you?” He didn’t turn around as he made his way to his car. Starting the engine, he turned on his high beams to obscure RJ’s vision. While waiting for the detectives to pull off, he dialed Reginald. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”
The phone rang four times.
“We have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Two detectives came to RJ’s house. I think they have Destiny’s phone. I’m following them to station right now. They wanna ask me more questions.”
“Stay cool and stick to your story.”
Flashing headlights prompted Titus to end the call. Driving off, he caught RJ’s eye.
9
The doorbell rang, and Constance put her coffee mug on the table and looked at the clock. Nine am. Those door to door evangelists weren’t going to be satisfied until she cursed them out in person. She marched to the door and was surprised to find her father.
“Everything okay, Daddy?” Constance said. She patted the satin bonnet protecting her hair. “I’m sorry about the mess.” She looked down at her feet and back at him. “Jovan was up late last night and Joi had a cold.”
“No need to apologize. You should probably take some time off so you can spend some more time with your family.”
“I hope you mean spend more time with the kids,” she said.
“I tried to warn you, baby girl. He’s not for you”
“Yes, you did. And now I’m paying for not listening to you. I should not have married Jovan. There, I said it. Are you happy?”
Reginald chuckled. “Took you long enough.”
Lawrence came around the corner, buttoning the top button of his shirt, his tie dangling around his neck. “Morning, Pop.” He opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “Joi’s fever went down. I think it’s just a 24 hour bug.” Standing in front of Constance, he lifted his chin slightly.
She worked the tie into a perfect Windsor knot. Lawrence left as quickly as he came. She turned to her father. “It’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because you’ve been tapping on the counter and you haven’t blinked since he walked in here. Like I said, it’s not what you think.”
“But it is what I see.”
“No,” she said with a smile, “it’s not that either. A pipe burst in his apartment and he’s staying here until it gets fixed. Jovan and I agreed to it.”
“You mean, you talked and he listened?”
“Semantics, Daddy.”
Lawrence appeared again. Rolling up his sleeves, he washed the dishes in the sink. Resting a freshly cleaned one on the counter, he poured himself another glass of orange juice. “Let’s talk in the office.”
Constance sat in her chair behind the desk. Lawrence stood at her right shoulder. Reginald took a few seconds to observe them and smiled to himself. Constance was taller than her mother, but she had the same build, the same smile. Constance had inherited more than her mother’s looks. She had the same no-nonsense attitude. Reginald wondered if she would be as unforgiving.
“I’m assuming you came to talk about RJ,” Constance said. “If it’s not one thing it’s another with that boy. You shoulda had me first.”
“I got better with practice.” Reginald clasped his hands and set them in his lap. “I did come to talk about your brother.”
“You don’t think he killed that stripper, do you?”
“I didn’t say that. But, his actions have put us all under a spotlight. Something I’ve managed to keep us out of. RJ is dead weight. We need to cut him loose.”
Lawrence stepped away from Constance. He smoothed his hair down. Constance excused herself. When she returned, she was dressed in a dark blue Chanel skirt suit and matching pumps. She sat in her chair and gave her father a level stare.
“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?” Lawrence asked. “I’m not questioning your judgement, but we all know how RJ gets when he’s angry.”
Reginald crossed one leg over the other. “Which is precisely why we need to cut him off.”
“So we’re just going to let him rot in a jail cell?” Constance asked. “I don’t like him, I can’t stand him most of the time, but he is my blood and I won’t give the police, nor the prison any satisfaction of knowing that they have a free shot to break him.”
“He’s out,” Reginald said.
“What?”
“He got out late last night. We’ll still be there for him, I’m just cutting him out of the business. Frankly, we don’t need him.”
“He’s right,” Lawrence said. “I was only able to keep profits stable because of some investments Constance made. We should consider it.”
Constance didn’t respond. She picked up a pen and turned it over in her fingers. “We’ll have to get everyone’s buy in. We have to be united. I’m having lunch with Malcolm. ”
“I’ll call Darius.” Lawrence left the room.
Constance got up and settled in the chair next to Reginald and rested her head on his shoulder. Her entire body relaxed as his fingers traveled across her scalp, bringing her back to her childhood. It was the only way she could sleep through a thunderstorm. She still hated storms. “It’s not supposed to be like this, daddy.”
“I know, baby girl. But to be honest, I knew this would happen.”
“How? When?”
“Your mother kept us all together. After she passed,” Reginald filled his lungs, “it was only a matter of time. It didn’t help that I had to leave.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“I’m afraid it is.” He kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t have you first.”
She raised her head to look up at him. “I don’t like cutting RJ out, but you and Lawrence are right.” She held his hand. “I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”
“I’ll take care of that. I’ll take care of everything.” Reginald hugged her. “You make me so proud.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You truly are you mother’s daughter. Just as smart and beautiful.” His vision blurred. “She lives through you.”
Constance smiled and laid her head back on his shoulder. “I miss her too, Daddy.” A single tear trailed down her face. She took a deep breath, got up and returned to her chair. “I guess we’d better get started on the paperwork. There’s a lot of it.”
Trey hopped in the car and slammed the door closed. RJ, busy grooving to the Isley Brothers, waited until the song went off to acknowledge his presence. “What up cuz?”
“Why you listenin’ to that old shit?”
“Cuz it’s a classic. And...never mind. Take the battery out of your phone.” RJ didn’t put the car in gear until Trey had obeyed. It was late and there were only a few cars on the road. He took the freeway entrance, increasing his speed to 80 mph before setting the cruise control. When he hit the button part of the steering wheel turned green. RJ took his hands off the wheel, and the car stayed in the center of the lane.
“That’s fancy.”
“Still gotta stay awake.” RJ turned the radio down.
“What are we gonna do about Pop?”
“The detectives just wanted to question him, probably something about his alibi. He should be fine as long as he sticks to his story.” RJ went quiet. He stroked his chin.
Trey, noticing his skepticism said, “I ain’t say nothing.”
“Good.”
The drive lasted 45 minutes. RJ took back control of the wheel and pulled into a parking lot. The warehouse was set 20 yards back from the street, hidden by huge oak trees that stretched across its face. Parking in the back of the building, the two got out and strode toward the rusted metal door. Inside, there wasn’t any sign of the life.
RJ held a finger to his lips. Trey nodded and pulled his pistol. They crept deeper into the warehouse. They heard voices, and went toward them. The only light in the room was above three men sitting on one side of a table. RJ motioned to Trey, who put his gun away.
Pauly grunted. “I told you getting involved with them was going to ruin us.”
“We don’t know what’s going on? Let’s just hear them out,” Santini replied.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I hope you’re not talking about us,” RJ said. He pulled to his full height and walked into the light. “Don Santini. Thank you for arranging this meeting.”
“He didn’t get it without a promise that you would explain what the fuck is going on.” Pauly ran his fingers through what remained of his hair. “You got fucking arrested. For murder. If they got to you, I know they can get to me.”
“Calm down,” Santini said.
“Calm down? How bout calm the fuck down. Your life ain’t on the line.”
“We’re not involved anymore, so what are you worried about,” Trey said.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?” Pauly stepped forward. “And why does he think he can say a word to me?”
Trey opened his jacket, flashing the chrome on his waist. “I’m the help. And you best watch your tone when you’re talkin’ to me.”
“He’s my cousin,” RJ said, “and you have every right to be worried, but nothing is gonna happen. They let me go cuz they don’t have shit. I didn’t talk.” RJ nodded in Trey’s direction . “He doesn’t know enough to talk. Titus didn’t talk. We’re good.”
“If we’re so good, then why are we meeting out here?” Pauly asked.
“Because, he wants to secure a safety net,” Santini said. “He wants us to supply him, but he doesn’t want Reginald to know about it.”
“I already told you I wasn’t going for that. Reginald is my guy.” Pauly ripped his phone from his pocket. “I gotta take this.” He was so fat he was unable to raise his knees high enough to produce a sufficient stomp. He screamed a stream of curses into the phone. “Didn’t you hear what I said you fuckin’ idiot? Hold off on everything. I don’t care if you have to put a fuckin’ gun to their heads.”
Santini chuckled to himself. “Excuse him. He just doesn’t like loose ends.”
“We’re not a loose end. No one said anything,” RJ said. “No one would. The Saintes don’t fuck with the law, you know that.”
“I guess that why he left for three years.”
RJ swallowed his anger. He saw Trey’s eye’s narrow, and grabbed the younger man’s shoulder as a warning to calm down. “That doesn’t matter.”
“What does matter is why you’re coming to us to back you. Reginald doesn’t trust you?”
“The last time I saw him, he told me I need to take responsibility for my actions.”
“He thinks you killed that girl?”
“Yeah. But I didn’t. If I know Pop, he’s probably tryna figure a way to cut me out. If that happens, I’ll have to start over. And if I have to start over, I want to do it with people I know. And trust.”
“How does he fit in?” Santini said, pointing at Trey.”
“He’s my right hand man.” RJ looked into Trey’s eyes. “I trust him with my life.”
Santini’s eyes traveled back and forth between them. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the desk behind him. As he went to speak, Pauly’s voice cut him off. Back in the room, he growled a final instruction before ending the call. Out of breath, the ends of his sentences came out as gasps. “What do you know about Reginald’s wife?”
“Nothing. We just found out about her when Pop came back. Why?”
“I just got your leverage.”
10
Detectives Jordan and Mackenzie sat across from Titus, neither one of them in a rush to start talking. Titus just stared back at them. He never changed expression.He hadn’t been in an interrogation room in years, but he knew what to do. So he sat. He picked at his nails. Focused on the sound his shoes made as he repositioned them. He counted the seconds as the second hand wound around on the clock above the door, wanting to determine if Einstein’s Theory of Relative was true:; could he actually make time slow down. The hand traveled around the clock five times. 300 seconds. All of them felt the same.
Mackenzie made the first sound, clearing his throat. He stretched, his lack of home training showing as he didn’t cover his mouth when he yawned. “I’m thirsty. You want anything Titus?”
