To Murder a Saint (Saints Mystery Series Book 1) Read online

  I still didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “You walked out on the check, and you weren’t even listening. Had you paid attention to me, given me my due, you would have remembered. You could have done a minute of research and learned that the Kiribati were famous for their swords made of teeth. I saw a man killed with one made of shark teeth, and I was never the same. The way the skin on a man’s neck catches on it. It’s so primal and raw. It’s killing with nature.”

  I was so petrified I don’t know how I managed to squeak out a sound. “Why? Why would you kill Josephine? You didn’t even know her. How did you find her?”

  “You stupid hick. How many Fanchon’s do you think there are in New York? Within two minutes of you walking out of the restaurant I knew where you lived. I have a car. I beat you home. When I arrived I found that beautiful hillbilly you lived with and couldn’t resist her. The plan was to get in by giving you the wrap and then kill you quickly. That was before I met her. She let me in so willingly. She flirted, too, tossing her hair around and batting her eyes. She dropped little bits of French and touched me while she spoke. She was mesmerizing. I could not decide if I was going to kill her right away. I stood in the hallway thinking about it, after she let me out. Then I noticed she didn’t lock the door. I knew it was a sign. I walked back in, and she was playing music so loud she never heard me. I stripped out of my suit to my hunting clothes, walked right behind her while she danced and swayed with her eyes closed. When she opened them and saw a reflection of me in her mirror, we locked eyes, she stopped swaying, and in that moment I took her head.”

  I started to cry. That was his intent. He wanted to see me in misery. After I figured that out I refused to give him the satisfaction.

  “I wish I would have been there,” I said.

  “You wish it would have been you instead of her. I understand that,” he replied.

  “No. I wish I would have been there sooner so I could have killed you,” I said suppressing tears.

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth he lunged forward and pushed me against the refrigerator. He held his sword to my throat, and I moved my hand up to his wrist to try to keep the pressure off of my neck. The points were digging into my skin. I could feel blood letting and pressure on my windpipe. It was so hard I could barely breathe. He held me there, his breathing frantic, while I gasped for air.

  “You see the teeth on this?” He screamed with his face an inch from mine. “There is not another like this sword. I made this one myself. The Kiribati used the teeth of sharks. It’s hard to get access to a shark in civilized countries. Luckily, hicks like you don’t live in civilization. For the right amount of money any old red neck will help you kill an alligator. I fell in love with those creatures. I fell in love with their power, their dominance. I love to dominate powerful creatures,” he said placing his body against mine. “Josephine was a powerful creature.”

  I pushed him as best I could, enough to free my throat and take a breath. He grabbed my arms and pushed them back. With all the strength I had I kicked him in the groin. I ran for the door and found it locked with a deadbolt requiring a key. I ran to the wall that was shared with the neighboring unit in the duplex and pounded on it screaming, “Help!”

  Jason came out of his hunch and walked slowly to me. “You want help from my neighbors?” he asked. He reached past me and knocked the wall hard with his fist. “We can go over there, but you aren’t going to like my neighbors,” he said and he grabbed my arm hard.

  His grip was so tight his thumb was cutting off the blood supply to my hand. He pushed me to the back of the house to a battered white door facing the other side of the duplex. He opened it, and I saw a room bathed in unnatural light. There were green walls cast in a blue hue from aquariums. The aquariums took up every inch of the duplex’s first floor. There was no kitchen or dining room like the other side. All of the walls were knocked down to make one large room, with row after row of tanks filled with slithering, crawling things. The floors were littered with bug corpses and spider webs hung from the ceiling. Black felt covered the windows, shutting out any semblance of natural light.

  Jason swept his free arm out to show off the room. “I have been caring for these since I was a young man. It wasn’t until I went to New Orleans that I collected my first big pet.” He was smiling and pushing me past a tank where a snake was uncoiling to watch us pass. He bent to the snake. “This one is not for you.”

  Looking back to me he said, “It’s such a waste what happened to your roommate. I could barely get any of her off of the floor before your neighbor went and died. He completely ruined my plans.”

  I wondered if the front door of this house was locked. He probably didn’t expect much out of the lizards. I looked around the room for the path to the front door. The front door was there, but boarded up and in front of it was a long python cage blocking any access to it. Jason grabbed my neck and turned my head back to the back of the home.

  “Let’s go see my big pet. His feeding tank is empty, and he hasn’t had a good meal in about hmm, a month or so.”

  When we reached the back of the dark room, Jason took a chain off of a door. I knew what was on the other side. In that moment I knew what Madame Du’Ponde saw. When he opened the door there was an obvious contrast to the room we were in. Almost complete darkness was facing me. I could only see by the light thrown from the aquariums. There was a stone lined hallway that led to a set of steps. Jason reached up and pulled a chain, which turned on a very dull black light. He pushed me towards the stairs. I could see nothing at the bottom except concrete. Jason reached over to the wall and gave it a few knocks. Within a few minutes I saw the large green head of a full-grown, bayou-bred American alligator. I knew a head like that was attached to a very old and very large body.

  Jason turned to look at me. He wanted to examine my face. He was now one step in front of me with his back to the stairs. After a look up and down my body he shook his head.

  “I need something to remember you by,” he said and reached his hand into my pants pocket. His other hand was still holding the knife, and I realized I had my moment to escape. I picked up my leg and kicked him hard in the shin. I turned for the big room and ran towards the door. I got past the snake and threw his tank to the ground. It shattered, and he was free. A rattling emerged behind me after the snake hit the ground. Without turning around I kept running, throwing glass and freeing animals in my wake. I reached the front of the room and climbed the tank of the python. I glanced back enough to see that my kick did not send Jason far enough down those steps. He was jumping over his pets and running towards me. Balancing precariously on the screen mesh lid of the snake cage, I stepped from it to the neighboring spider cage. From there I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I covered my face and pushed forward with all my strength for the window. I was hoping the black felt attached to the window would save me from the shards of glass. I felt myself hit the window and curled into a ball preparing to go through, but instead I bounced back hard. I fell backward, and the tank with the spiders came down with me. I lay on the ground for a few moments trying to clear my dizzying head. It wasn’t felt over the windows. It was black plastic, and it was screwed into the wall.

  I was starting to come around enough to get up and found myself covered in spiders. I couldn’t help but scream. Wild uncontrollable screams were coming out of me. Jason had finally caught up and in one motion he yanked me up from the ground by my arm. He dragged me with no regard, through broken glass and scattered animals, back to the basement stairs. At the top of the stairs he thrust me forward and kicked me in the back between my shoulder blades. It knocked the wind out of me, and I fell forward head first down the stairs. My leg made a popping sound somewhere along the way, and I felt like my shins were wet, but I couldn’t see why. By the time I had reached the bottom stair the lights were out and the door was closed.

  I heard movement and a groan. I did not have my bearings enough to know whe
re the alligator was. I lay still on the ground and held my breath. I then heard the clicking of nails to my right. That meant his face was very near me. I quietly took the shoe off of the leg that had popped. I took off my shirt and held it tight in my hand. I knew I would only have one shot to do what I needed to do in the dark. I was going to have to Alligator wrestle, taking the advice of that asshole Terry Thibodeaux. “No way to open their mouths once they’re shut.”

  I closed my eyes and threw my shoe across the room. I heard a snap. It was the sharp closing of the gators mouth. It was so close to me I could feel the wind from it. I jumped up and pain shot through my leg. I ignored it, and by the power of adrenaline I pushed my body down. I could feel that I was on his back. I felt thrashing at the front and knew that was where his face was. I knew from Terry’s peanut butter comment that if I could get his mouth closed tight it would stay closed.

  I wouldn’t have the luxury of double checking my work so I had to make it count. I pushed the arm holding my t-shirt to the floor and slid it under what I thought was the front of his snout. With my other hand I pulled the fabric around to the top and knotted it fast. After the knot was tied I felt around, and I knew I had gotten it right. I could feel teeth in front of and behind the knot. It would stay on, unless he kept thrashing like he was. I remembered hearing that to calm them you can put something over their eyes. I had nothing other than my pants, and I certainly wasn’t going to sit naked in a basement on an alligator, so I covered his eyes with my hands. He thrashed and tried to buck me a few more times, but after a few minutes he stopped, and then his breathing slowed and I was sure he had fallen asleep.

  I had time to take stock of my situation. I could feel the ridges of his back digging into my stomach. I could tell that I was lying with my head near his shoulders and my feet weren’t anywhere near his tail. I couldn’t even feel his back legs when I poked around with my good leg. He had to be over eight feet long. His length and the fact that he didn’t roll with me on his back told me he was old; too old and too big to do a full roll. If he could talk he would say, “Too old for some half-naked human to be on my back.” We had some of those on the bayou. We called them granddaddies.

  I stayed on top of him for what felt like hours. He was breathing slowly and quietly, and my skin was taking on the shape of the points of his skin. It finally occurred to me that I might change positions. I moved to sit up and in the time I took my hands off his eyes he got back into a huff and started thrashing. I put my hands back over his eyes. I found myself saying what my mom used to say to me before bed. “Hush now, you hear?”

  Time passed and passed. I had no idea how long. I heard some footsteps above. It was probably Jason Stepwald, Marine, insurance salesman, reptile lover and psychopath cleaning up the remnants of animal tanks thrown around by yours truly.

  I found myself talking to the alligator. “Granddaddy, if you could get a message to a Madame Claire Du’Ponde of New Orleans it sure would be helpful. Could you send her a message to get us both out of this damn basement? She told me she could see you down here. Let’s hope she’s tuned in. We are in a place called Queens with Jason Stepwald, if you are listening, Claire.”

  Granddaddy let out a huff. I guess he thought I was crazy. Maybe I was, but then I remembered what my grandmother said. “The world warns you, cher, before the bad come.” The world had warned me: first at dinner Jason made me think of death, and then Madame Du’Ponde told me not to come back.

  I noticed it got quiet upstairs, too quiet. I heard the door at the top of the stairs creek open. Granddaddy gator shifted under me, but did not move. I tensed up when I heard a click followed by the light of the dull black bulb. It was just enough light for me to see the topmost steps and to give me my bearings; I was positioned kitty-corner from the stairs. My head and Granddaddy’s were facing the steps. Jason started down them, first I saw his dark boots, followed by his legs, which were still covered by fatigues. When he was halfway down his face came into view, and I could see he was wearing a large black contraption on his head and what looked like binoculars over his eyes. As he got closer to the bottom of the steps his face was cast in a green hue when he turned his head. I guessed that it was night vision goggles. I could still see a small amount of him when he reached the bottom of the stairs, enough to see him shaking his head. “My, my. Full of surprises, Fanchon.”

  I did not respond. I kept my head down and started thinking about what I could do to protect myself. I listened intently trying to hear his steps, but there was no movement. He spoke again. “I applaud you, Fanchon. Really amazing effort, but you have to have to know you’re not getting out of here. Now the question is what do I do with you?”

  He stood for a moment, and then I heard soft footsteps going to the corner opposite the stairs, not mine, but in front of me. He stopped, and I heard the rustling of clothes and then the sound of something being slid off of something else. It sounded like metal rubbing over wood, like a sword. If he were to try to hit me with a sword he would have to get close to me, close enough to reach me, which meant close enough for granddaddy to reach him. I knew I was going to have to take my chances freeing the alligator. At least that way I had a shot. I did not want to give away what I was going to do so I started to whimper. I took my hands of off of granddaddy’s eyes, and laid my head on its side, facing Jason’s corner. I pretended to wipe away tears with my right hand and slid my left hand along granddaddy’s teeth until I reached the knot in the shirt I had tied over his mouth. I worked to loosen the bond and then let my whimper go quiet so I could hear Jason’s steps. They were closing in and then stopped. I heard the rustling of his clothes again. I quickly rolled to the left and pulled off the shirt I had tied around granddaddy with my roll.

  I heard granddaddy let out a hiss followed by the sound of his jaw closing. I had never heard it open. All was quiet for a moment and then I heard a scream, and Jason growling, “Damn it, you ungrateful son of a bitch. Let go of my hand.” I was lying on my back, shirt in hand, and then I heard hard kicking. Jason was kicking granddaddy. The ground beside me started to rumble, and I felt a whoosh of air by my side. Gator roll, I thought. It surprised me because I did not think Granddaddy had that in him. He must not have wanted me off his back badly enough to go to the trouble. I heard Jason inhaling, followed by another louder scream. He went to take another breath. It was a long enough pause for us to hear a rumbling upstairs. It was footsteps like before when Jason was stomping, but now I heard a lot of them and breaking sounds. Then I heard Jason running back to the corner he had been in earlier when he grabbed the sword. He opened something there and was gone.

  The door he left open shone enough light for me to see most of the room. I saw that granddaddy was looking around the room and sniffing. I did not want to take a chance that he would notice me and decide I was a nuisance yet again. I shuffled my way toward him and lifted myself up quickly, kicking with my good leg onto his back. I tucked my shirt under his snout again and tied it up. It was a lot easier with the light, but he did not put up any type of fight.

  I stayed there for what seemed like another hour, listening to muffled yelling and footsteps, not knowing what was going on. Damn, I thought. If this is Madame Claire she works fast.

  I heard the door at the top of the stairs open, followed by a yell. “Come out with your hands up.” I laughed to myself, thinking, if I throw Jason’s hand up there, would that count as hands up?

  The yell came again. “Is anybody down there?”

  “Yes,” I yelled, my voice hoarse. “Come down real slow please. I am sitting on an alligator.”

  “What?” The voice yelled.

  “An alligator.”

  The man, wearing an all black uniform with his face covered by a ski mask, came down the stairs with his gun drawn. He reached around to the wall and found a light switch. When he flicked it, the light in the room was so bright I couldn’t see a thing. I closed my eyes tight and looked away.

  “Jesus. Holy shit,
” the man yelled.

  I heard him cock his weapon.

  “Don’t shoot,” I shouted, but my voice was not as loud as I planned.

  “I’m not going to shoot you. I am going to shoot that thing.”

  “Don’t you dare. I’ve got this. Call animal control.”

  The man yelled up the stairs, “Down here. There’s a woman down here.”

  More masked men came running down the stairs. Each one looked shocked to see me lying half naked on a giant alligator. The stairs had filled with men in head to toe black trying to figure out how to get me off of it. My eyes started to adjust to the light, and I could see one of the men was familiar. Banyan.

  “We need to get her off of that thing,” he said.

  “I’d shoot it, but she won’t let me,” said the man who had found me. He now had the mask rolled up off of his face.

  “How do we get you off of it?” Banyan yelled to me.

  “Just lift me up,” I said, my voice quiet. “My leg is hurt, and I can’t get off of him fast. Look, his mouth is tied shut. He won’t be able to open it until he can thrash it off, and that will take a few seconds. Have everybody go upstairs, and then there won’t be anybody here for him to attack. He can’t climb stairs.”

  Banyan agreed to lift me, while the other men were still saying they should shoot it. Banyan sided with me and told the men to go upstairs.

  Banyan yelled at them, “One of you go and get a blanket for her. We don’t need ogling.”

  He walked slowly to me and bent close to my ear. “I am going to pick you up on the count of three, got it? One. Two. Three.”

  With that he swooped in quickly, pulled me off of Granddaddy gator, and then ran for the steps, holding me with my back to him and his arms around my stomach. I could hear the thrashing behind me as Granddaddy tried to get free of my knot. By the time we reached the stairs he was free but exhausted. He closed his eyes and took a nap where he stood.