Saxon's Conquest

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by Sable Hunter


  “What?” He was waiting for her return like he expected her to receive some type of revelation while visiting his sanctuary. It hit him in that moment that waiting was exactly what he’d been doing for his whole life.

  Waiting for an opportunity. Waiting for the right time. Waiting to give his parents the life they deserved. Waiting for someone to share his life with.

  Waiting for her.

  When she appeared, his heart leapt. “What did you say?” he asked again.

  She held up the key to his house. “Why is sex better with nerds?”

  He laughed. “I’ll answer that question on the way. Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  “Okay, but I’m going to hold you to it.” Alivia followed him into the mudroom and through a door into the garage. “We’re meeting the diocese’s representative at the Bluebell Creamery in Brenham.”

  “No kidding?” He barked out a laugh. “What a weird place for a discussion about a possible serial killer.”

  “We’re talking ice cream heaven here, Abbott. The Bluebell creamery. My nirvana.” She climbed into his Corvette and fastened the seat belt. “I don’t need an excuse to go there, but if I did, a serial killer will do in a pinch.”

  “So, ice cream’s your weakness?” God, he wanted to be her weakness.

  “Ice cream and cheese. I’m a dairy nut.”

  “You’re a nut all right.” He laughed, opening the garage door and backing out carefully. “Damn, it’s raining harder than I thought. This must be some massive freakin’ storm.”

  “Yea, these are just the outer, outer bands. They say Harvey is a record-breaking monster. A storm the size of Texas. I hope they’re wrong.” She looked up at the dark sky with concern.

  “Hold on, let me check in with Micah.” As he headed out of Blackhawk, he dialed the Wolfe. “We’re on our way to Brenham.”

  “I’m on my way to the hospital. I don’t know the whole story, but they decided Sami’s operation couldn’t wait. She should be coming out of surgery now.”

  “Was she worse? Did something happen?”

  “I don’t think so. I think this approaching storm made the doctors nervous. They may be afraid it’s going to be worse than they thought. Electrical outages, that sort of thing.”

  “Damn. Are you sure I shouldn’t come down there to be with you guys?” He cut his eyes toward Alivia. “We could probably reschedule this meeting.”

  “No. Go to the meeting. I’ll call you with updates. If something…weird happens – which it won’t, Brenham is over halfway here.”

  “All right. Call often.”

  “Be safe. Tell Alivia hello for me.”

  “Hello, Micah!” Alivia called out.

  “Oh, you’re together. Good.”

  “Sayonara, Micah.” Saxon ended the call, then turned south onto the toll road. “We can take this to 290, then straight to Brenham.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She folded her hands in her lap, then refolded them. Being with Saxon was a little uncomfortable. She didn’t know which hats they were wearing at the moment – their professional ones or their private ones. “What is Sami’s prognosis?”

  “Whew,” Saxon said, blowing out an exasperated breath. “Good, I hope. She’s lived with this brain tumor thing hanging over her head for years. She met Jet while she was in Veracruz, seeking alternative treatment as a last resort. Obviously, the treatment worked for a while, but now she’s battling another tumor. This time they say it’s probably benign. We’re praying the doctors are right.” He shook his head. “Jet wouldn’t survive otherwise, I’ve never seen two people more in love. Jet adores Sami beyond reason.”

  “Like Micah loves Madison.” She was jealous. Pea green with envy.

  “Yea, and like Kyle loves Hannah. Completely.” God, he was jealous of his friends. He wanted that closeness – that completeness. He wanted to be someone’s other half.

  He wanted that kind of relationship with Alivia.

  “So…” He was about to say…about yesterday when she interrupted him.

  “Why sex is better with nerds? As a card-carrying nerd, I think I should be in on this information.”

  He adjusted his rearview mirror. “I’m sure you already know the answer to that question.”

  “Humor me.”

  “All right, I’ll tell you.” He pressed his foot to the gas pedal, taking their speed up to eighty. “When nerds are into something, they are into it. Nerfdom is defined by obsession with a topic, be it the minutia of Star Trek, or the geography of Game of Thrones. When the object of a nerd’s obsession is a woman – well, let’s just suffice it to say…”

  “She’s one lucky girl.” Alivia didn’t argue, she squirmed in her seat and pulled on her skirt. “What else?”

  “We analyze, we like to know how things work.”

  Alivia adjusted the air vent. “Yea, what buttons to push or rub, I get it.” She wanted it too. She wanted him to rub all her buttons. “Anything else?”

  “They like to experiment.” Saxon could see he was getting to her. “Try new ways of doing things. See what works best. Gather sufficient data.”

  Alivia worried her collar, unbuttoning the top button. “Experimentation. Right.” She didn’t know what was wrong with her. He wasn’t doing or saying anything overtly sexual.

  “Are you warm? Shall I open the windows?”

  “No, no,” she assured him. “I’m fine. Is that all?”

  “Nerds have imagination. Sex would never be boring. Can you imagine the roleplaying?”

  Wrong thing to say. “Playing a role in the bedroom can be dangerous.”

  “I think it can be fun.” He’d been hoping to talk her back into Darlena’s boots soon. “And when the sex is over, nerds always have something to talk about.”

  Alivia wanted to ask him about the role he’d played last night, the one where he wanted to feel loved, but not be loved. She opened her lips to form the question, but the words wouldn’t come. “Our turnoff to 290 is coming up soon, you should slow down.”

  Saxon did as she suggested. “So, do you agree with my assessment?”

  “About why sex with a nerd is amazing?”

  “Well, I didn’t say amazing…although…”

  Alivia flushed, not sure if she felt comfortable teasing about something that fast was becoming more than important to her. “I guess we should focus on the matter at hand, shouldn’t we? This is pretty important.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Saxon pressed his lips together. “Do you know what questions you’re going to ask him?”

  “Other than the killer’s current address?”

  “Yea, this might be our chance to get into this guy’s mind.”

  Alivia rubbed her forehead. “You’re right. Do you have any Tylenol?”

  “In the console.” He pressed the latch, and it sprang open.

  “Thanks.” She picked up a small plastic bottle and flipped open the cap, extracting two tablets, which she swallowed with no liquid.

  “I’m sorry your head hurts. Is it my fault?” he asked. “You weren’t allergic to the flowers, were you?”

  “No, I’m just tense. Been staring at a computer screen for too many years.” Alivia happened to glance down. “Saxon, what’s this?”

  He glanced to see what was in her hand. “A business card.”

  “Tim Dailey’s business card. He writes tell-all books. The nut’s been going through my garbage. Did you talk to him about me?”

  “No,” Saxon answered her quickly. “I did not. He was outside Equalizer Headquarters the other day and asked for an interview. I turned him down. He didn’t mention you.” He could see Alivia was upset. “I wouldn’t do that, Alivia. Has he been harassing you?”

  She leaned her head back on the seat. “He’s the man I told you about the other day. When Savvy confronted him, he broke her arm. Treated her pretty shabbily.”

  “Damn.” He didn’t question Alivia referring to her droid friend in almost human terms. “I’m sorry. Did you p
ress charges?”

  “Not yet. The police didn’t seem too anxious to pursue the matter. I’m sure…well, we know they have more important matters to think about, like these murders.”

  “People like Tim Dailey can be persistent. That kind of field attracts some crazies.” He caught her hand in his as she ran her palms over her thighs nervously. “You and Savvy are going to come to my house and stay with me for a few days. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Alivia didn’t know why she agreed so fast. She hadn’t even admitted to herself that she was afraid. Last night, she’d been too tired to think about it, but after seeing his card and knowing the lengths the nut was going to – she couldn’t deny her uneasiness. “Thank you.”

  “Good.” Saxon let out a huge sigh of relief. “There’s so much going on. I feel like we have targets painted on our backs.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Dailey is harassing you. The Jaguar is taunting Micah. And we’re on the trail of a serial killer. There are countless things that could go wrong.”

  “Who’s the Jaguar?”

  Saxon snorted. “Oh, just a Mexican drug lord we’ve managed to piss off. He sent Micah that painting, and now I’m pretty sure we’re on his hit list.”

  “Wow, I understand why you want me to stay with you now.” She patted her purse. “I have my gun. I’ll protect you.”

  “We’ll protect each other, how’s that?”

  She nodded, feeling oddly better. The idea of the danger they faced wasn’t nearly as alarming as it should’ve been. “I’ll call Savvy and tell her to pack a bag. She’ll be thrilled.”

  “Does she like to travel?”

  “This will be her first trip away from home, other than to the lab for repairs.”

  They talked about Savvy, and what made her tick until they spotted their exit. “Brenham, coming up.”

  “I see it.” As Saxon put on his blinker, Alivia’s phone rang. “It’s Violet.”

  He followed the signs to the creamery as Alivia spoke with her assistant.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, I’m pregnant,” Violet told her without preamble.

  “So, Savvy was right.”

  “That robot is too smart. She gives me the creeps.”

  Alivia laughed. “I think the feeling is mutual. When’s the blessed event? And congratulations, by the way.”

  “In about seven and a half months, give or take a day or two. Don’t worry, I feel fine. I managed to get in touch with the Dukes for you. You have an appointment in two weeks.” Violet told her the day and time. “I tried to give you some leeway time to finish this thing with the Equalizers.”

  “I think I can make it. Thanks. This will be a plum assignment.”

  “Almost as plum as the one you received this morning from the U.S. Army.”

  “Oh, really?” Alivia asked, intrigued. “What’s that?”

  “They want you to design some driverless trucks to deliver supplies in places like Afghanistan.”

  “Oh, yea, I like that idea. When and where do they want me?”

  “You’ll need to go to DC; they want you at the Pentagon.”

  “Okay, see if you can arrange a meeting with them soon after the one with the Dukes.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Oh, I have your boots, all repaired and ready to wear.

  “Thanks, Violet. And take it easy. I hear soda and crackers work wonders.”

  Once the call was through, Saxon waited for Alivia to say something. When she didn’t, he bit the bullet. “Making plans for the future?”

  “Always,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Don’t you?”

  “Sure. I go where the Equalizers need me. Where are you off to?”

  “DC.” She explained the opportunity. “Driverless delivery trucks would save so many lives, especially if I can pilot them with AI robots who can fight back if they’re attacked.”

  Saxon nodded, impressed. “I can see the future headlines now, Alivia Hart Changes the Face of War.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” She shrugged. “You almost sound offended.”

  “No. no.” Saxon sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m super impressed by what you can do. I’m so proud of you. I just…” He didn’t know what to say without feeling foolish. “I’ve just enjoyed working with you, and I’m not ready for it to end.”

  “We’re not through, Saxon. Not nearly,” she assured him as he pulled into the Blue Bell factory complex.

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  He wasn’t really sure what she meant. He knew the investigation wasn’t complete. Or was she talking about them as a couple? Hell, he wasn’t used to feeling this unsettled. Saxon didn’t like it. He wanted things nailed down. Set in concrete. Controllable. Logical.

  Saxon parked close to the entrance. “Hold on, I’ll come around with an umbrella.” Alivia complied, not really relishing getting rain-soaked before the meeting.

  Once he was in place, he opened the car door and sheltered her until they were inside. “At least the storm kept away the crowds.” She couldn’t help but smile at their cheery surroundings. She’d been here before, and she loved the place – from the statue out front of the little girl and the jersey cow to the traditional black and white checkered tile floor. Best of all, she loved the samples of every flavor of ice cream imaginable.

  “What can I get you?” Saxon asked. “I know you won’t be able to resist eating something while we’re here.”

  “Thanks.” She wanted to kiss him but refrained. “Moo-llennium Crunch in a white chocolate cone. Bring a bowl too, in case I get preoccupied, and it starts to melt.”

  His eyes lit up at her smile. “Gotcha. Let’s see if our guest wants something, then I’ll go order while you set the stage.”

  Alivia only had to look up to find the man she was looking for. Father James stuck out like a sore thumb. As they approached his table, he rose with a smile. “I wasn’t sure if that was you, Ms. Hart. You two look a lot younger than I expected.”

  “Surely not,” Alivia protested with a smile. “I guess it’s a relief that I don’t look as old as I feel.” The Father wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting either. Instead of a Father Dowling with heavy jowls and grey hair, she’d gotten MASH 4077’s Father Mulcahy, complete with a turtleneck, glasses, and a jaunty straw hat. “Thanks for braving the storm, Father.”

  “No problem. I’m relieved to be here.” He stood while Saxon pulled out Alivia’s chair for her.

  “Father, this is Saxon Abbott.” She introduced the two men. “Father James is a psychologist on staff at the diocese.”

  He shook Saxon’s hand. “Well, my official employer is the University of Houston, but I have provided a screening service for the seminary for several years. I have been called on multiple times to counsel troubled priests.”

  “Good to meet you, Father. Can I get you anything from the bar?” His question sounded funny, and they all laughed, considering the bar in question was an ice cream bar.

  “I’ll have a Homemade Vanilla shake.”

  “Ah, a purist,” Alivia observed. “I like you.”

  “I’ll be back,” Saxon promised as he went to place their order.

  “So, you’re working some cold cases,” the priest observed. “I must say, I do not envy your position. Very macabre.”

  “I enjoy the search, but not the reason behind it.” She hoped that made sense.

  “Police work has changed, I’m sure. Computer experts are the new heroes.” Father James stood up to help Saxon with their refreshments. “Thanks for this.”

  “What did I miss?” Saxon asked, taking a bite of his Butter Pecan sundae.

  “We were waiting for you,” Alivia said while opening a folder. “Father James, when we came upon the killing of Delores Fisher, we found that the prime suspect was a Father Curtiss Murray. The Detective told us, that despite evidence to the contrary, the Father’s alibi was upheld by the church.”

  “Plus, we l
earned Murray was also suspected of assault, but those charges were dropped for some unknown reason.” Saxon murmured, pushing some napkins toward Alivia when he saw a film of cream on her upper lip. “What light can you shed on the matter?”

  Father James drank deeply from a glass of water the waitress set before him. “This is an odd situation, a sensitive situation. Times have changed since Father Murray’s case came to my attention. The church doesn’t operate the way it once did.”

  As the Father struggled with his story, Saxon spoke up. “I think I understand, Father. Things changed after the abuse scandals broke wide open.”

  “Right. For centuries, the church was shrouded in secrecy, their faults kept hidden, their sins whitewashed. The good the church did far outweighed the bad, but Father Murray was…an unfortunate exception.”

  Neither Alivia or Saxon encouraged the Catholic priest. They let him find his own way to convey his message. After a few introspective moments, he began to speak. “I heard Father Murray’s confession.”

  The five simple words jarred Alivia’s soul. “I’ve never been faithful to any particular religion or any particular church, but I do understand the sanctity of the confession.”

  Father James nodded. “Yes, the seal of the confession is a sacred sacrament of the church.” He took off his hat and bowed his head. “I’ve lived with this burden for two decades. You’ll never know the sleepless nights I’ve spent. I’ve struggled with the church’s beliefs and my own. I pray I’m not wrong, for the only way I can justify talking to you about this now, is that I have made peace with the tenets of redemption. Confession. Repentance. Forgiveness. Even confessed sins cannot be absolved if there is no repentance – and that was the missing ingredient with Murray. He wasn’t sorry. He felt his actions were justified.”

  With that chilling preamble, Father James began his story.

  “Yes, I heard Curtiss Murray’s confession about his lust for Delores Fisher. She came to the church and confessed to Murray how she’d slept with her pageant coach. He absolved her of the sin and told her to leave the contest before it tainted her. She prayed for strength, saying she couldn’t quit, that she needed the scholarship money. He insisted he could help her find the strength she needed. Over the course of several days, he counseled her, but she wouldn’t relent. He pressed her, and she tried to refuse his help.” Father James looked into the distance, lost in his sad tale from the past. “Murray became obsessed. He’d go to her apartment to pray and read scriptures with her. He confessed how he desired her, how he was erect every minute they were together. Poor girl, she didn’t know what to do to discourage him. Delores was raised to be a good Catholic, and being polite to a priest was basic. On one visit, just before the final pageant, he came to make one last plea for her to turn her back on temptation. He followed her to the kitchen and saw an empty condom box in the garbage and Murray snapped, screaming at her, calling her a Jezebel. He wrapped his rosary around her neck and strangled her to death.”

 

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