by Sable Hunter
“Baby, don’t try to maintain control when you’re with me. Bite me. Claw me. Mark me.”
There was that name again. Baby.
This time she didn’t chastise him for using the term of endearment. She had to rein in an incredible urge to jump across the table and sink her teeth and nails into his skin, marking Saxon so every woman could see he was taken.
Completely flustered, she stammered, “It’s uh…um…” fighting to regain her composure. “My, um, blood is very rare. RH Null. There are only a few dozen people in the world with the same blood type.”
“You’re doing a terrible job convincing me you aren’t a vampire. I’ve never heard of this before.”
“It’s like a blessing and a curse all in one. My blood type is called Golden because anyone with an RH factor can be saved with blood I donate. The downside is that I can only receive a transfusion from another RH Null donor. Speaking of which, I need to get down to the bank and make a deposit.”
“You don’t have any stored? You really should you know.” The very thought of it bothered him. “What if you had an accident?”
“No. You’re right, it’s very important. I have some stored, but a little girl was in a car accident, and the hospital called me in a panic.”
“And you gave it to her?”
“Of course.”
“You are incredible.” Saxon reached across to take her hand again and was grateful when she didn’t pull it away.
“You two still here?” Micah’s voice boomed through the building and up the stairs to where they were.
“Hell.” Saxon cursed under his breath, squeezing Alivia’s hand before letting it go.
“Hey!” Destry barked when he came into the kitchen with Micah in tow. “Those were my ribs.”
Alivia dropped the rib in her hand.
“Oh, they were not, don’t listen to him,” Saxon insisted. “Eat.” Facing Micah, he could tell something was up by the Cheshire grin on his face. “What’s going on?”
Micah set a tiny black paper bag down on the table. “Well, slight change of plans. We’re still continuing the investigation, full steam ahead, but we’re going to be doing it more up close and personal.”
“What do you mean by that?” Saxon could sense something was up, something they might not like.
“Victoria met with the Miss Texas Board of Directors,” Destry explained. “Considering the three murders, they discussed canceling the pageant altogether this year.”
“Sounds good to me.” Alivia shivered at the thought of how those girls must be feeling.
“They aren’t going to cancel it; the pageant is going forward, and we’re going to be there.”
Micah’s announcement surprised Saxon. “Were they honest with the contestants?”
“Yes, they were. Normally, some details of crimes are hidden, but the fact that all three women were beauty queens wasn’t something that could stay secret for long. Not informing those girls so they could seek extra protection, and their local police departments so they could be on their toes, would have been sheer negligence. Victoria and the other directors brought the girls together for an online meeting. When everything was explained, the girls themselves decided to press forward. I guess you could compare it to what happened after 9-11, people were determined not to change their everyday habits out of fear. This is a form of terrorism. I’m sure the killer gets off on creating chaos. The contestants thought that foregoing the pageant would be letting the killer win. Precautions will be taken.”
“I guess we’re the precaution,” Saxon muttered, seeing where the discussion was headed. “Sounds like a plan. What are we going to do? Stand guard?”
“Not hardly, we’re going to be right in the midst of the action.” Micah patted the black sack like it contained a secret of some sort.
Saxon was confused. “I guess Alivia and I will stay behind the scenes and do what we do best. Research.”
“We’ve already made one small breakthrough. We may be able to identify the killer by what friends the contestants have in common on Facebook,” Alivia offered, looking between the two men, and wondering what was about to happen.
“Keep in mind that there are worlds of people who follow this pageant and all the participants. The Miss Texas contest is a state icon,” Micah explained. “We need to be closer, have eyes and ears present at every event.”
“How do we do that?” Saxon asked.
“Well, here’s what we’re going to do. Victoria has arranged so we can have someone take one of the beauty contestant’s place.” He pulled something wrapped in tissue paper out of the bag. “Alivia, you’re going to be a contestant.” He unfolded the paper and handed the surprised woman a tiara.
She looked at the shiny, bejeweled crown. “I’m what?”
“You’re going undercover,” Micah said slowly, allowing his proclamation to sink in.
“I’m a computer expert, not a beauty queen. I didn’t sign up for this.” She glared at Micah, clearly not happy with the situation.
“You’re certainly more qualified than any other member of the Equalizers.” At her skeptical face, Micah waved an assuring hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll be great. You’ll continue with your investigation; this won’t take up much time.”
Saxon picked up the tiara. “Wow, Princess, it’ll look great on you,” he teased.
Alivia gave him a swat to the arm. “Stop it.”
“Don’t worry, Saxon. You’ll be right in the thick of things.” He threw an arm around Saxon’s shoulder. “The Equalizers are entering the Miss Texas Pageant!”
* * *
Saxon leaned on the door frame outside his office. “She’s been tapping that damn pen for the last hour.”
Micah was at his side, both strapping men looking in on Alivia, who sat at her desk in Saxon’s office, tapping the end of an old Kyle Chancellor for Governor promotional pen on the edge of the desk. “Making any progress?”
“Yea, her nervous energy hasn’t slowed down that brain of hers. She whipped up a program and unscrambled those words that were written in blood on the parchment paper.”
“Yea, the clues.” Micah nodded. “What did they say?”
Saxon shrugged. “Really, didn’t make sense. Three names. Aspasia. Rahab. Josie.”
“Weird.” Micah’s mind began to work. “Rahab, the harlot?”
“Yea, that’s what Alivia said too. Some chick from the Bible.”
Micah laughed. “Not just some chick. She was a heroine, saved these Israeli spies who were sent into Jericho as reconnaissance, to determine if the city could be conquered. She hid the men under grass rugs, then asked to be spared when the war began.”
“I remember,” Saxon said, “my mama made me go to Sunday School. Jericho was the city the Israelites marched around seven times, blowing their trumpets, and the walls came tumbling down. Rahab ended up in the bloodline of Jesus. I think she was his great-great-something grandmother.”
“You’re right, she was also King David’s maternal grandmother, but I doubt that was why her name was chosen as a clue. What were the other names?”
Alivia heard them speaking. “Aspasia and Josie.” She motioned them on in. “Aspasia was lover/partner, maybe the wife, of the Greek statesmen, Pericles. Supposedly, she was so full of wisdom that Socrates sat at her feet to hear what she had to say. Her teachings were recorded by Plato.”
“I don’t get it,” Saxon muttered. “So these two women were heroines of a sort.”
Alivia began tapping again in earnest. “I don’t think that’s the link.” She threw down the pen and pointed at the screen. “Here it is! Aspasia was also rumored to have been a prostitute. Many recorded that she owned a brothel – like Rahab.”
Micah pulled up a chair. “So, they were both women of questionable morals. What about Josie?”
Saxon joined them, pulling his chair in between theirs so he would be closer to Alivia. “I’ve spent some time in New Orleans. Have you ever heard of Storyvil
le?”
“Yea, I think I ran across that name doing research for a book.” Micah pulled up a chair for himself to sit near them. “Wasn’t that the old red-light district of the Big Easy.”
“Right.” Saxon nodded. “Leave it to New Orleans to have their brothels all regulated and congregated in one place. Anyway, the most famous madam was named Josie Lobrano. She was very colorful, before death and after death. Her burial place is infamous, a statue on her grave is supposed to uproot itself and move through the cemetery at night.”
“Whooh...” Micah said, playfully.
“Don’t you see? That’s the key!” Alivia exclaimed. “They were all prostitutes!”
“So, you think the killer is making a statement, comparing the women he killed to whores.” Micah slapped the flat of his hand on the table in triumph. “I think you’re on to something, Alivia. What did we learn about the blood used to write the names?”
“The lab confirmed that the blood is different on each clue, it doesn’t belong to the victims. Unless we have three killers, it doesn’t belong to the murderer. I’m running the samples through a branch of my Dragnet program to see if I can find any matches.”
“Good idea.” Micah pulled his phone from his pocket.
“I also plan to use the program to…”
Micah held up his hand. “Hold on, let’s come back to that, we have company. Victoria is here. She’s on her way up. I’ll go down and meet her.”
“What were you about to tell Micah?” Saxon asked.
“Never mind.” After tapping furiously for about five seconds, Alivia swiveled around in her chair. “I’m not contestant material,” she blurted out.
There it was!
Saxon had been listening to her tap that Thunderbird pen since Micah arrived with the news of their modified plan. He’d heard the apprehension in her voice when they discussed it, but Alivia had seemed to go along with the idea. At last, she was giving voice to the pent-up nervousness he’d felt in the room.
“On the contrary.”
Both turned their heads to see Victoria standing just inside Saxon’s office now. “I think you’ll make a perfect contestant.”
Victoria was dressed in her usual impeccable style, with hair expertly quaffed, not a strand out of place, and an outfit that looked like it had been handstitched onto her by a famous designer.
“I’m not beautiful like those girls you see on television,” Alivia protested.
Victoria moved into the room and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That is horse hockey, honey, and you know it. I’ve been involved in pageants my entire life, and you are as beautiful as any girl I’ve ever seen. Don’t you think so, Saxon?”
Both sets of female eyes fell on Saxon, who was gawking at Alivia in the same way as he’d been doing – either openly or secretively – the entire time they’d been together.
“She’s beautiful all right.” Saxon smiled at Alivia, and she smiled back. “But I don’t think she’s gonna win Miss Congeniality.”
The smile dropped from Alivia’s lips, and she glared at him with the evilest eye he’d ever seen.
“Don’t listen to him.” Victoria took her by the arm. “I’ve brought some outfits I want you to try on.”
Alivia stood, but instead of moving toward the door to follow Victoria, she took a step backward at the idea. “What kind of outfits? You aren’t going to make me wear big hair and sequins, are you?”
“Trust me, my dear. I have impeccable taste.”
Not knowing what to expect, Alivia followed Victoria down the stairs. When she noticed Saxon bringing up the rear, she pointed a finger at him. “You stay upstairs. I refuse to have an audience while I make a fool out of myself.”
He held up his hands in defense and remained where he was. “Fine. I’ll wait for the blood results, and review the notes one more time.”
Downstairs, Alivia was surprised to see three full-length garment bags lying on the conference table, and a full-length mirror leaning against the wall. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed when Victoria began to bring the gowns out for her view. “They’re beautiful.”
In the next few minutes, Alivia felt like Cinderella getting ready for the ball. She tried on the first dress and almost fainted. “I love this one.”
“Oh, me too,” Victoria agreed. “This is an Ashley Renee design. The color of the gown is well offset by the silver crystal detailing. I think the nude and silver color combination complements your dark hair and tan complexion beautifully.”
Alivia moved back and forth in front of the mirror. She’d never worn anything like this before. The gown featured a classic column silhouette, tank sleeves, a plunge vee necklace with some type of illusion mesh, highlighted by silver crystal detailing all over the gown. “These don’t count as sequins, do they?”
“No.” Victoria laughed. “These are hand sewn crystals; they wouldn’t tolerate being compared to a mere sequin.” She picked up the hem of the skirt. “We might have to alter it a tiny bit, take an inch off the bottom. I think this gown really shows off your hourglass figure and emphasizes how toned you are. Very classy.”
“Saxon?” Alivia called out his name, just in case. “Are you out there?”
Saxon held the results of the blood match in his hand. Once the report had come through, he couldn’t resist coming down. He’d just been lurking, waiting for a good time to interrupt. “Yes.”
Alivia tried to scoff. “I knew it.” She really wanted him there; she just didn’t want to admit it. “Since you’re here, come tell me how you think this looks. Do I look stupid?”
He peeked around the corner and almost went to his knees. “God, no. You’re a total bombshell.” He thought she was gorgeous!
Victoria waved Saxon back. “We have two more to try on.”
“Don’t go far,” Alivia told him, and Saxon nodded.
He stepped around the corner, not wanting to embarrass her, and listened as Victoria helped Alivia undress to try on another gown.
“There was a match on the blood used to write the clue found in Mindy Nixon’s car,” he spoke from the hall.
“Who?” Alivia asked immediately.
“A woman named Anne Rader from Georgetown.”
“Did you do a search on her?”
“Yes, I did. I’m confused, though,” Saxon muttered as he stared at the floor, imagining Alivia half-undressed.
“What about?”
“Ms. Rader died of natural causes a few weeks ago, before Mindy was killed. She was a schoolteacher with no record. She was raped a decade ago, that’s the only reason why her blood type and DNA were in the police database. Doesn’t make sense.”
“Poor woman,” Alivia mumbled. “We’ll have to do a little more digging, I guess.”
“This gown is a custom piece made by the Columbian designer, Alfredo Barraza,” Victoria told her.
Alivia almost fainted when she saw the organza strapless gown. The aqua blue color was breathtaking. “I think that’s too pretty to put on.”
“Oh, try it, you’ll look like an angel in this.” Victoria helped her into the gown as Alivia marveled at the intricately beaded bodice and full fan-pleated skirt.
“Saxon, what do you think?”
Hearing himself being summoned, he quickly moved into the meeting room. What he saw made his heart hammer in his chest. “I feel like I should ask you to dance. You look like a Princess, sugar.”
“Don’t…” She stopped and gave him a dazzling smile. “Thank you.”
Saxon’s heart soared as he once again moved away for her final fitting. While he waited, he stepped to the front lobby to check his emails and messages, surprised to see a missed call from Jet. There was no voicemail. Automatically, he felt guilty about not checking on the new parents sooner. Clicking through his contacts, he placed the call. When there was no answer, he frowned. “Jet, this is Saxon. Call me back.”
In the meeting room, Alivia was really getting into the beautiful gowns. “This i
s outrageous!” she said as she tried on the last of Victoria’s selections. “You’re my fairy godmother, did you know that?”
“Of course.” She zipped Alivia up. “I can guarantee this would be the most discussed gown at the pageant. Not every woman can wear canary yellow, but it would be perfect with your coloring. This is a Sherri Hill piece. Very graceful. Very fluid. Raw silk. An amazing couture gown if I ever saw one.”
“With this full skirt, I think I look like a school bus. Saxon!”
Coming down the hall, Saxon heard Alivia’s voice. He loved to hear her call his name. There was no way he could wipe the smile off his face. “Here I am!” he called, his voice trailing off when he saw Alivia in the bright yellow gown. “Mercy! You look like a butterfly.”
Alivia did a half twirl. “I feel pretty.”
“You aren’t just pretty; you’re fuckin’ stunning.” Saxon’s outburst embarrassed him as much as it did Alivia.
Victoria joined in with a laugh. “See? This isn’t as bad as you thought, now is it?”
“No, it isn’t.” Alivia had to admit.
“We just need to give you a makeover.”
Alivia’s smile waned a touch. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“Oh, we still need to find outfits for the events, but the clothes are just one part of it, you’ll need a full makeover.”
Now the smile was gone completely. “What’s wrong with my look?” Alivia was now more than just a tad offended. She remembered how Saxon called her ‘edgy’.
“I think she’s perfect,” Saxon said with no hesitation. He didn’t like the self-doubt on Alivia’s face.
“Saxon! Come help me a minute. I have boxes!”
Hearing Micah bellow, he excused himself. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
When they were alone, and seeing Alivia was upset, Victoria tried to explain. “Honey, there is absolutely nothing wrong with how you look.” She leaned in closer to her as if she were about to reveal the whereabouts of Jimmy Hoffa. “We just need to make you a little more all-American and a little less…badass.”
“Okay.” Alivia smiled. She could live with badass.