CHAPTER TEN

The last Luc and Wilson saw of JT and the woman with the child, he was walking them home. A home which happened to be two blocks from the church. One block from JT’s own studio apartment. He promised to check on them the next day to be sure everything was okay with the chair, and she promised to have hot coffee and food ready for him.

“Do you think your mama and Ruby knew about all that?” Wilson asked Luc.

“Brother, I don’t doubt it for a minute. I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But somehow, they knew, and there they were. What other explanation is there?”

“None,” laughed Wilson. “That’s sort of the point. Makes me wonder why they couldn’t just tell us who might be committing these murders.”

“Oh, no,” laughed Luc. “That would be way to easy, and Mama doesn’t like to make anything easy for us. She says it builds character. I got enough character for a hundred men. I wish she or Pops would just help us out a bit. Then again, maybe us doing all the work is what shapes us into the men we are.”

“Like you said, that would make things too easy.” As they pulled the truck from the curb, both men saw the reverend leaving the church in his sweatpants and running shoes.

“Looks like the reverend needs to clear his head after the sermon,” said Luc.

“I can’t imagine what this must be like for him. He devotes his entire life to helping all these people, addicts, alcoholics, prostitutes, and then suddenly, he has two deaths on his doorstep. I know he’s not married, but I wonder if he was ever engaged. Divorced?”

“We’ll have Sly and Code check it out,” said Luc. “He seems to know a lot about relationships and their complexities.”

“Let’s go,” smirked Wilson. “If we beat your mama home, maybe we can snoop around and see if we can find the fairy dust.”

“Dude, you are not getting me into trouble. Besides, there is no way that woman is a fairy. She’s too sneaky.”

“Isn’t that what fairies are? Sneaky, small, cunning, clever?”

“Damn. You’re right. Let’s go.”

Neither was surprised to find that Irene and Ruby had beaten them home. Dinner was in the big cafeteria, and all the babies were crying at once, begging to be fed.

“What the hell?” muttered Luc. “Are they all on the same schedule?”

“It gets that way sometimes,” smirked Wilson. “Sort of like your sisters.”

“My sisters?”

“Oh, come on! You can’t tell me that at one time or another, all six of your sisters weren’t on the same cycle.” Luc looked utterly appalled by the thought of it. Then, just as suddenly, he stilled and let out a long breath.

“Shit. You’re right. I never thought of that before, but they were. Pops would say it was time to go fishing, and we’d all scratch our heads but nod. Hell, fishing was better than listening to them cry and bitch.”

Wilson could only laugh as he walked toward one of the quads, cradling her in his arms. He grabbed the bottle from the table and walked, slowly rocking her until she was quietly eating and happy.

Luc took a seat beside Gaspar, Nine, and Ghost.

“Anything?” asked Nine.

“Nothing that would help us. We met an alcoholic who’s been through some rough times, but he didn’t have anything to do with all this. It’s all so strange. It’s a good group of people at the church. No one that you would suspect.”

“What about the reverend?” asked Ghost.

“He was in good spirits, considering everything that’s going on. As we were leaving, he was going out for a run. Or I should say jog,” he smirked. “It wasn’t much of a run.”

“Well, he’s in his late fifties, early sixties. I think we can give him some slack,” said Nine. He felt the hairs on his neck rise and raised a hand. “Trak, so help me God, if you bring that alligator any closer to me, I’m going to be wearing him tomorrow.”

“You did well,” smirked Trak. “Maybe getting old is helping your senses. Alvin isn’t going to bother anyone. He says it’s quieter here than at home with all his babies.”

“Does Alvin have any answers for us on the murders?” frowned Ghost.

“None,” said Trak with a serious expression.

The doors opened, and Code and Sly walked toward their table. They knew from their expressions that this wasn’t to tell them something good.

“What’s wrong now?” frowned Gaspar.

“We’ve got another body. Female, thirty-one, known prostitute. Same death. Stabbed multiple times but not before she was hanged by her hands, both shoulders dislocated.”

“Fuck,” muttered Ghost.

“She had a son,” said Sly. “A little boy living with her and her mother. I gave the address to Gabe and Cruz. They’re gonna talk to the grandmother and then head over to the coroner’s office.”

“Three women,” muttered Nine. “Three women who weren’t doing anything wrong. We have nothing to tie these women together.” Gaspar stared at the men, then nodded.

“No, but we will. Come hell or high water. We will.”