Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (66 page)

“Yeah, I did
.”

“Wow…”
The man appeared choked up. “You don’t know how much…man…just thanks man.” He gave Saint a pound and a firm, heartfelt one-armed hug.

Saint nodded, not making a big deal about it
, and headed over to the T-shirts.

“Boys, pick out only
one
T-shirt each, please,” Saint warned. His sons walked over, looking through the shirts and fighting over which ones were cooler.

What Sleeper didn’t know, and would never be told, was that when he
had put his hands on Saint’s head and touched him the first time, Saint could feel the man’s woes. This was yet another reason Saint didn’t like anyone but his wife touching his hair—he could pick up their emotions and troubles—but he took a chance, and was glad for it. The man had four children and one had a serious medical condition concerning her kidneys that was putting him and his wife in financial devastation. The man smiled and joked all the time, and was great at his craft, but it wasn’t enough to make ends meet and he was hiding a lot of pain. He was called Sleeper not because he was lazy, but as a joke of sorts. The guy never took a break and was always working, hustling, trying to make an extra dollar to take home to his family. Saint made sure that at least for a few weeks, he could breathe a bit easier. He wished he could do more, but he was short on time—and he would damn sure be back.

Saint picked out a T-
shirt and they said their final goodbyes.

“Daddy, I wanna ask you something
,” Hassani said as he held each boy’s hand while they made their way down the sidewalk toward the subway.

“Yes.”

“Did you use to go to the barber shop with your daddy, too? I liked getting my hair cut with you today.”

“I liked it too, Hassani. Uh, no, I didn’t get my hair cut with my
dad. We went to two different shops.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I’m not really sure but my mother would cut my hair if we didn’t have enough money some weeks, but if we did have enough, she’d send me to this shop that did an okay job. When I got older, I found a place that was able to accommodate me a bit better. You enjoyed getting your hair cut today?” They rounded the corner.

“Yeah and that man did a good job, just like you said. I wish my hair would never grow again and looked like dis all the time!”

Saint laughed and squeezed his hand a bit harder. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Tonight we gotta stay in the hotel with
Mommy? When will you be back?” Hassani asked, sorrow in his tone.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, son but when I
do, I’ll probably be really tired so Mommy is going to watch you guys, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“Daddy, you can be real with me.”

Saint stopped walking, smiling inwardly. “Okay, Hassani,” he said seriously. “You want to know what’s going on, right?”

Hassani nodded.

“Grandpa is sick, just like I told you. I also told you this was important, but what I didn’t share was that I’m here to try to make him better.”

“I know. I just wanted you tell me. I don’t know why grown-ups
do stuff like this. I’m almost grown, too. You can tell me the truth.”

Saint chuckled and started walking again.

“Are you, now?”

“Mmmm hmmm and one day, I’ll have hair on my chest just like you and a big house and call all my homeboys, son.”

Saint burst out laughing, his face warming from the great time he was having with his boys. He noticed Dakarai had become unusually quiet.

He looked down at him; the boy’s eyes were shining like two brand new pennies.

“You okay, Dakarai?” Saint paused.

“Daddy
.” He looked up at him. “I know you told me it was bad, but I did it anyways.”

“Did what, Dakarai?”

“Read that man’s mind and I’m sad.”

Saint swallowed. He patted Dakarai’s head. “I know,
Son. His daughter is sick.”

“Yeah and you know what else, Daddy?”

“What?”

“
He really hope you come back.”

“I bet he does!” Saint burst out laughing. He didn’t mind being the benefactor. Matter of fact, he was supposed to be doing exactly what he’d done
back there in the barber shop…

~***~

Clad in a long, pale green robe and matching short nightgown, Xenia leaned up against the bathroom doorway.

“Baby, you really need to get some sleep before you and Jagger go over there.”

“I am, baby.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” She pointed to the laptop sitting
on his lap in the hotel bed.

“I’m almost finished. I just can’t believe this.”

“What?”

She walked leisurely over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m being called into a meeting with them. Of course, Ned will be there, but this could take hours and they want me to come down there and explain every damn charge, nook and cranny. I can’t believe this shit!” Saint had tried to remain calm, but instead, he shoved the computer off his lap with a hiss.

“Sequestered? This is unbelievable!”

“Someone did this shit, Xenia.” He pointed at her. “I know Sinclair is behind it, but I can’t figure out the other piece just yet.”

“Yes and speaking of all this bullshit, Saint, I cannot for the life of me figure out why you wouldn’t let me at the least fire Shianne!
I know we have no proof that she did this, but we both know she did!”

He held his hand up. “Because, we have to play this cool. We can’t have them thinking we have this all figured out.
They need to believe we are totally confused, and not putting it all together. It will blow everything.”

“Well, something is up because she quit
anyway. I got a text message today.” She handed Saint her phone.

He gripped it and read it. “Well
, that was rather cryptic. She knows we can’t prove she did the shit and she doesn’t want to incriminate herself.”

“Yeah, just saying ‘thank you’ to me for all I’d done for her but she was moving on to other opportunities.” Xenia rolled her eyes. “
I feel so helpless! The woman tried to kill me, and I can’t do shit about it. I wish I could see her one more time. I’d slap the living shit out of her.”

“You tried. You lied to me telling me you were going to the store when we got back from the hospital. I knew you were on
your way over to her place. I had to make you come back to bed. Shame on you, Xenia,” he teased.

“I knew you knew, Saint.” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care if she didn’t
mean
to kill me. Like what Lawrence was trying to tell you the other day, she almost did and if you hadn’t healed me, there is no telling what else would have been going on. I’m glad Jagger scared the shit out of her. Lawrence said they squared her away, whatever that means.”

“Oh trust
—” Saint grinned like a happy demon. “She is
definitely
squared the fuck away.”

“I think I deserve to know! I am the victim right here, you know.”

“I’ll tell you but right now, I better get some shut eye just like you said.” He yawned, lay on his side and closed his eyes, knowing she was staring daggers into him.

“Alright. W
ell, do you want me to bring you something to drink?”

“Yeah…”
He pointed at her crotch. Xenia laughed and turned away.

“Boy, you need to stop.
I’ll go see to those children now.” She got up to leave.

“You lucky the kids are out there tearing up the hotel room. I’d make you give it to me!”
He snickered.

Xenia shook her ass, making him groan and leap up and down on the bed.

“Ohhhh, baby! Back that ass up! Come on back over here.”

“Nope. I promised the boys I’d play whatever they wanted to and you know Isis is probably being
tortured. Dakarai likes to dress her up now.” She grabbed the door and looked back over her shoulder. A stream of light came through along with the sounds of their children running around playing, huffing and laughing. “Saint, I love you. Be careful tonight.”

“I love
you too, baby. And I will. And—I know I’ll be tired, but if you can, try to stay up and kiss me goodnight.”

“You got it.” She blew him a kiss and closed the doors behind her…

~
***~

Saint tossed and turned. Initially, he felt like he was having a dream where he was stuck in some rapper’s video. Piles and piles of money fell from the sky and every time he tried to catch one single dollar bill, he missed. A woman’s shrill scream blared out like an ambulance siren. White pieces of paper soon joined the dollar bills, twirling and spinning like helicopter blades. Words and numbers were jotted on them, but nothing he could read clearly. Out of the chaos, someone was pulling his arms, trying to help him. The woman kept screaming, and then she screamed his name—“Saint!”

He knew that voice…

Payton!

Saint burst up from the sheets like a
monster disturbed from his slumber, grunting and panting. In a cold sweat, he looked around the darkened hotel room in a state of confusion and shock. He clumsily palmed his face; it was balmy to the touch, as if he’d just ran a marathon in ninety-nine degree weather.

“Oh God…” he said breathlessly as he fell back onto the soaked pillow, looking up at the ceiling. After
pulling himself together, he reached over, past the hotel alarm clock and mp3 player and picked up his cell phone.

“Lawrence,” he
said, swallowing hard. He felt a bit nauseous, but fought the troubling feelings as best he could. “I need you to check into something for me.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound well.”

“Had a dream… I think I know who Sinclair got to help him with the IRS tax investigation that we are dealing with now.”

“
They are leaning toward guilty before even speaking with you.” He sighed. “Tax liens are coming, Saint, if we don’t get to the bottom of this. I believe they will freeze your assets. … Anyway, who?”

“
I realize that and though it won’t make sense to you, I believe it is Payton.” Saint took a deep breath, wishing he’d asked for a glass of water when Xenia offered. His throat felt dry. He scratched it, as if that would somehow relieve him. Slowly sliding out of bed, he made his way to the master suite bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him to avoid alerting his wife that he was up and about instead of resting per their agreement. “She was my ex-girlfriend.”

“The attorney from New York?”

“Yes.” Saint leaned over the sink and looked at himself. He was pale as a ghost.

“You never went into much detail about that. You only shared she’d tried to break up your marriage, and when you and I met, you were going through some marital woes because of
her.”

“Yes, well, I don’t have time to get into it but she became a bit obsessive about Xenia and I thought I’d made myself clear to her, for her to not
try anything else or I’d—”

“I think I can fill in the blanks.”

“And I meant it. I don’t know how it happened, I can’t figure out how these two got together, but I
know
they are working together to destroy me, Lawrence. Payton has extensive connections with large investment and financial agencies as well as the Internal Revenue Service due to her former position as a corporate attorney in finance. She could
easily
make something happen like this. Legally, regardless, it would still appear she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, so she’s
definitely
pulled some strings. Now look, I need you to look into her, find out what she’s being doing. Her maiden name is Bishop. I don’t know if she legally changed it back from her marital name after her divorce was final or not, but she is from Queens, and lives in New York City now. Uh, let’s see…” He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. “Do you need any other information?”

“This is a starting point. I will let you know if I have any further questions.”

“Once Jagger and I are finished tonight, I will tell him what’s going on and he can assist you. It is imperative that you don’t tell anyone about this. We can’t let Sinclair know we are aware of him and Payton working together.”

“Of course. I’d never discuss i
t. I’m on it. I’ll see what I can find and get back in touch with you.”

“Thank you.” Saint disconnected the call and started the shower.

A few moments later as he undressed, he detected the faint scent of Xenia’s perfume.

“What are you doing just standing there?”
he asked before he’d actually seen her. She opened the bathroom door and ran her fingers down the wood.

“I thought you’d sleep a little longer.”