by Sable Hunter
“Yes, sure, I guess.” She opened the thin wooden door. To look upon her was to know she was an angel. “Do you want, like, a coke or something?”
With measured steps, he moved in behind her, and she closed the door. Shutting him in with her. Alone.
He could picture it, he knew how everything turned out.
“That would be okay, I guess.” He coughed. Yes, that’s what had happened. He coughed and tried to lower his pitch down to a manlier tone without her noticing. “Did you, you know, think about what he told you? I mean, what I told you? The stuff we talked about before? Do you remember what I said?”
She sighed. “Yeah,” and then moved toward the kitchen to get that coke, before she added, “a little bit.”
“Good,” he whispered to himself as he followed her to the kitchen. His eyes wanted to trace her shape down to the floor and back up, but he fought the urge, looked to the side, and smiled at the way angels make you want to be devils at times. Good thing he was strong and faithful.
She opened the fridge and bent down to grab a canned drink for him. To fight his worldly nature, he looked away, so he wouldn’t be tempted to see her curves. His eyes fell on the kitchen island countertop. To occupy himself, he rubbed his cross and read the labels of the items left out.
He saw a bag from Walgreens with what looked like face cream or lotion or something still in it. He saw an empty wrapper for a veggie and turkey snack. He loved that she took care of the body the good Lord gave her. And then his eyes fell to the garbage can at the base of the kitchen island. What he saw made him grasp his cross tightly, and begin reciting the words to the Lord’s Prayer in his head.
She turned around, sweet as ever, with a can of coke in her hand. She saw his face flushed, sweat on his brow, his eyes bugged out, and his lips silently and rapidly mouthing the words, “thy kingdom come, the will be done.”
She sat the coke down on the counter. “Umm, are you all right?”
His eyes moved from the garbage up to her, and she could see they were bloodshot. “You sinner,” he hissed at her.
She looked down where he had been staring, and saw an empty condom box on the top of the trash heap. She looked back up at him with realization.
He rose and spoke to her, his pitch and his volume rising with him. “You’ve been unfaithful. You’ve sinned. You are a WHORE!” When he yelled the last word, the clasp on his necklace broke.
She fell back a little bit and began to turn to run away, but he grabbed her by the throat, wrapping his necklace around her neck, holding onto the ends. He’d hoped the cross would burn an impression in her skin. “You sinner. You must stop! Why didn’t you listen?” He began to cry as he pulled the necklace impossibly tight around her neck. She choked. She whimpered. She begged and clawed at what was squeezing the life from her body.
He closed his eyes tighter. How did the story go?
Oh, yea, he’d sobbed harder, holding the necklace in place. “God, please. Why didn’t she repent? She was an angel, a fallen angel.” The only way she would be redeemed is if she left this life of sin behind. He watched her eyes bulge. One final choke and her body drooped in his grasp.
He opened his eyes and rose from this couch. He was breathing heavy, heartbroken, aroused and angry all at the same time.
Placing the scrapbook down, still open, he shook his head. The pictures, the stories, the memories, they haunted him.
He gazed one final time at Delores’ face and turned the page. There was another girl, so beautiful. “Sinner.” He turned the page again to reveal another girl. “Whore.” And another. “Sinner.” And another. “Whore.”
And another.
And another.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alivia ran to her car, needing to put distance between herself and Saxon as quickly as possible. Even though he’d turned down her offer of more casual sex, what he tempted her with was even more tantalizing.
A relationship. A meaningful, hopeful, relationship with someone who understood her.
Just the possibility made her tremble. She felt torn, pulled in two impossible directions. Trusting someone was so difficult, and she couldn’t bring herself to explain why. The memories were just too painful.
So, she ran.
Once she was in her car and headed north on I-35, she managed to calm her breathing and think clearly. What Saxon proposed didn’t have to be long-term, she didn’t have to relinquish control of anything. He’d have no claim on her. All he’d requested was to get to know her. Was that too much to ask?
She wasn’t sure.
Before she could psychoanalyze herself further, her phone beeped. There was an incoming call from home. Knowing Savvy didn’t contact her unless something was wrong, she tapped the answer button on the steering wheel.
“What’s going on, Sav?”
“Alivia, hurry home. I’ve got problems.”
“I’m on my way home now. What kind of problems?”
“Just hurry. I have to deal with the police.”
When the line went dead, Alivia swore under her breath. “The police? What the heck?” Just the idea of Savvy dealing with the police gave her hives.
Pressing the gas pedal, she edged over the speed limit, hoping the Austin cops were being vigilant somewhere else tonight. When she saw the exit to 79, Alivia put on her blinker and breathed a bit easier. Not far now. She turned east and headed through Round Rock and into Hutto. Taking the turns through the small business district, she eased onto Live Oak Street, her eyes anxiously seeking out her serene, seafoam colored house, her haven from the mad scramble of the outside world. When she saw the black and white police cruiser in her driveway, Alivia tensed. What could’ve happened?
Her questions were soon answered when she found Savvy conversing with a cop. Thankfully, the policeman was one she knew by name. “Officer Hamilton. What’s the problem?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer. Savvy put a palm to each side of her face and made a face much like Edvard Munch’s painting, The Scream. “I was attacked!”
“Are you all right?” Alivia pushed past Ira Hamilton to see what damage had been done. “Did he hurt you?”
“Miss Hart, as best I can tell from speaking to Miss…Miss…”
“Savvy is a robot, an advanced AI gyroid.” She began to check Savvy for damage, finding her arm out of place and scratches on her neck.
“The man asked if I was a sexbot?” she said the words with as much shock and disdain as her voice modulator would allow.
“Miss Hart…” Officer Hamilton began again. “From this…uh…eyewitness account, a man was seen loitering in front of your house.”
“It was the same man who stole trash from our garbage can,” Savvy insisted loudly. “I came out to tell him to move on, and he attacked me!”
“As far as I can tell, nothing was stolen,” Hamilton said. “He didn’t break and enter.”
“He broke me,” Savvy insisted. “I want him arrested for assault.”
“You told me he came over to speak to you, and you hit him with a broom.” The officer scratched his head. “I could possibly fine him for trespassing and property damage, but not for assault.”
“Why not?” Savvy asked. “He grabbed me in inappropriate places!”
Alivia closed her eyes seeking calm, knowing what the policeman would say, and knowing what Savvy’s response would be.
“Sorry…uh, Miss. You’re not human.”
“Not human?” Savvy exclaimed as loudly as she could. “I’ll have you know I’m practically superhuman!”
“Savvy, it’s okay. I’ll repair everything. I have a spare arm, and whatever else is damaged, we’ll replace asap.” She tried to comfort the droid with a hand on her shoulder. “So, this man didn’t go in the house. What did he say he was doing here?”
“He wouldn’t answer my questions, but I have it all recorded.”
“You do?” the policeman asked in surprise.
“Yes, my retinas are cameras. Eve
rything I see and hear is stored, and available for download. Would you like a clip sent to the police station?”
“Uh, yea, that would be helpful. Maybe we can ID him.”
“Oh, I’ve already done that.” Savvy smiled. “His name is Tim Dailey. He writes exposés.”
“How did…” Ira Hamilton began. “Never mind. Do you want to press charges for property damage?” He directed the question to Alivia.
“What’s that, a misdemeanor?” she asked, sadly. Not waiting for an answer, she shook her head. “No, I’m tired. I’m not sure what this guy is after, but I’ll take measures to see he doesn’t bother us again.” Right now, she didn’t know what those measures would be, but the hour was late, and she was too tired to think.
The officer tipped his hat. “Well, call us if you change your mind. And don’t forget to send me that clip for my records.”
“Yea, will do.” Alivia hustled Savvy inside. “Come on, let me see what I can do to make you feel better.”
“I feel violated,” Savvy admitted. “I’m not used to people putting their hands on me like that. Is that what sexbots do?”
“Yea, I think so.” Alivia frowned at the scuff marks on the simulated flesh of Savvy’s breast. “I’m sorry he did this to you. Let me get the new arm from the closet and my toolkit, then I’ll fix you up.”
“You’re tired, Alivia. Violet can take me to the laboratory tomorrow.”
Savvy was right. She was exhausted. “Are you sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”
“You know I don’t have pain receptors. I just know when things aren’t right, and that makes me worry.”
“I know exactly what you mean, Savvy. I worry too.” Alivia went to the window and gazed outside, feeling vulnerable. On impulse, she grabbed her phone to call Saxon. She let it ring once, but chickened out and hit end. The hour was late. She didn’t know why she’d called him. She wasn’t some simpering hothouse flower who needed her hand held. Hopefully, she hadn’t woken him up, and he wouldn’t find the call until tomorrow.
* * *
“A plan, all I need is a plan,” Saxon muttered as he flexed in front of the bathroom mirror to Rod Stewart’s Do Ya Think I’m Sexy. “I’m going to wine you and dine you...front double bicep.” He raised up both arms, bending them at the elbow and making fists, grinning when his biceps bulged. “Looking great.” Come on sugar, let me know… “Sugar, that’s right, I’ll call you sugar until you realize it’s true. Side chest pose.” He turned sideways, lifting one arm waist high and making a fist to go along with his grimace of effort. “I’m going to woo you, court you, and sweep you off your feet. Vacuum.” Hand on hips, he puffed out his chest, his arms curled, and pecs elevated. “Oh, you’re so good!”
Since deciding last night that he was on a mission to get closer to the beautiful A. G. Hart, Saxon felt rejuvenated. He’d always loved a challenge, and this match-up promised to be as exciting as they came. As he brushed his teeth, he tried to reconcile the way she acted in his arms to the way she kept him at arm’s length when they were working. The only hint he held onto was the small kiss she’d pressed to his shoulder. As much as she might deny her feelings, to him that kiss said everything. The small token of affection told him that the wall of protection she’d built around herself was not impenetrable. Now all he had to do was chip away at that wall, one small step at a time.
As he showered, he made specific plans, thinking of places he could take her – Trattoria Lisnia down in Driftwood was nice, Vince Young Steakhouse downtown was always good, or Chez Zee was always an option. If she wasn’t in the mood for dinner, maybe he could take her to a club, see a show, or go on a hot air balloon ride. Or maybe he should keep it closer to home, more intimate. He would invite her over to his house, cook her dinner, have a night of gaming. Anything to get her alone with him away from work, he wanted to talk about something other than murder or html code.
“Sax! Saxon! Where are you?”
Micah. “I’m in the bathroom! I was about to head to headquarters. What’s wrong?”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone or your computer?”
Saxon managed to get a towel wrapped around his waist before his friend barreled into the bathroom. “I’m sorry I missed your call. I woke up and needed to pee. Is something breaking with the case?”
“No, Jet’s in trouble. He needs us.”
Saxon sobered immediately. “God, is it the baby?”
“I don’t think so. Sami called late last night and asked for Madison and Hannah to come take care of Axel. Kyle drove them to Houston, but he had to leave for Washington for an emergency meeting. I talked to Madison this morning, and she asked for us to get down there pronto. Apparently, something’s wrong with Sami.”
He and Micah looked at one another, and Saxon knew they were both thinking the unthinkable. Neither would voice their fear. “I’ll be dressed in just a second. What about the investigation?”
As Saxon pulled on his clothes, Micah filled him in. “Alivia can continue her research. Titus is heading up to Amarillo, so I’ll have eyes and ears on that front.” He held up his phone. “I’ll monitor everything remotely, and if a decision has to be made, we’ll make it.”
“I want to talk to Alivia,” Saxon muttered as he reached for his phone. Seeing all the missed calls, he assumed they were from Micah until he looked closer. “Dammit, she called me, and I missed it.”
“Well, come on. We need to get on the road.”
As they left the house and Saxon locked up, he placed the call.
…Alivia was pulling into her own office on South Congress when her cell phone rang. She cut the engine and stared at Saxon’s name. Almost, she didn’t answer. She wanted to speak to him, but after their last conversation, she was a bit embarrassed. Only the possibility that it was something about the case made her answer. “Hello?”
“You called me last night. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“Oh, did I?” Alivia put a hand over her eyes in chagrin. “I must’ve butt-dialed you.”
Saxon chuckled. “I’d accept a call from your epic ass anytime.” As soon as he said the words, he remembered Micah was sitting beside him in the vehicle. Shit. He narrowed his eyes at the Wolfe, telepathically threatening his life if he peeped a word. “Was something wrong?”
Alivia sighed, feeling the truth rise within her. “It was nothing. A man was outside the house…”
“What?! Are you okay?” Sharp pangs of fear and anger shot through him.
“I’m fine. The police handled everything. I’m at my own office right now, handling a few details before I head downtown.”
“Micah and I are about to take off for Houston to check on our friend Jet and his wife, Sami. They just had a new baby a few days ago.”
“Oh, have fun.”
He didn’t take time to explain that this trip wasn’t for fun. “Alivia, will you do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“Before you go to work, drop by the blood bank and make a deposit for yourself. I worry.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
Her answer sounded soft and intimate, giving Saxon chills. He glanced at Micah as he debated broaching the subject pervading his thoughts. “I’ll be back later tonight. I’ll call. If you’re still at work, I’ll come to you. I need to see you.” Alivia tried to speak, but Saxon just spoke over her. “I want you to think about coming to my house for dinner one night. I’ll cook, and we’ll play games. I’ve got a crazy media room. We’ll have a blast.”
“Well, that sounds like fun, but…”
Ignoring Micah’s smirk, Saxon cut off Alivia before she could turn down his invitation. “Just think about it. I’ll check with you later and…be safe.”
“Okay, thanks. I will.”
Ending the call, he placed it on the console, keeping his eyes on the road as he wound through the Blackhawk edition, avoiding Micah’s leering grin.
“So, you’ve decided to ask her out? I’m glad. Any blind
man could spot the sexual tension between you two a mile away.”
“Yea, I asked her out. I don’t know whether she’ll accept or not.”
“Why not? You’re an upstanding guy.”
“The woman’s driving me batty, it’s two steps forward, and three steps back with her.” Saxon laughed wryly. “Get this; she only wants me for sex.”
Micah guffawed. “And here I was thinking she probably wanted commitment and you didn’t.”
“I’m not saying I’m ready for commitment, but I do want something other than a casual relationship.” Saxon signaled as he pulled onto 130 and turned south toward Houston. “Hell, I don’t know what I want, Micah.”
Micah crossed one booted foot over his knee. “Well, I think you two are made for each other.”
“She’s amazing. I never would’ve wished for anything like this serial killer case to come up, but I have enjoyed working with her.”
“Yea, I can see you two collaborating on a lot of different…projects.”
“Enough about me and Alivia, tell me what’s going on with you.” Saxon cut his eyes at Micah, who didn’t look communicative. “Come on. Did Marisol give you some new information on the Jaguar? I know she’s still doing undercover work down in Juarez, it’s killing Tyson.”
“Well, you know I lost my phone the night we rescued Noah’s mother. I didn’t know where I lost it. There was no going back to find it. As soon as I got home, I canceled the number and bought a new phone, hoping the old one would stay lost. Apparently, it fell into the wrong hands. I…got an email.”
“From the Jaguar?”
“Yea, I think so.”
“What did it say? What made you think it was from him?”
Micah didn’t say anything for several seconds, then he looked out the window into the distance as he spoke. “The subject line read: My memory is long. When I opened the email, there was a very simple message: The next time we meet, I will be the one who comes for you and yours.”
Nothing overtly threatening, but the tone of the message was clear enough to the two men. Saxon didn’t have to be told the perilousness of the situation. If the Jaguar had accessed Micah’s phone, he was now in possession of all Micah’s contacts. “So, he knows who we are, I take it?”