The Warning

by Saul, Jonas

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Take her out and use lethal force. Do not underestimate her.”

  “Consider her terminated. I’m an hour’s drive from Salt Lake City. Call me back when you have more. I’m leaving now. I’ll be on the road awaiting your call.”

  Chapter 38

  Sarah fingered the paper beside her: Fredonia, Arizona.

  She knew every mile was a blessing. In a stolen SUV with a trail of dead cops and dead bad guys, every cop in the state would want to talk to her.

  The only reason she got away like she did was because of Parkman. No other cop knew her like he did. No other cop would’ve trusted her like he did.

  She flipped on the radio and started scanning stations to see if she could catch anything on the news.

  There was no way she was going to try to make it to Fredonia in this vehicle. She would change cars somewhere in Salt Lake City. She had no idea how yet, she just knew she had to. Maybe a classified ad would be all she needed. Some twenty-year-old might trade for the SUV. She could only hope, otherwise stealing a car…

  She sat up straight. Perfect. The best idea hit her for acquiring a car. Something Gert taught her four years ago.

  So in the morning she would do that.

  All she needed now was a cheap motel that accepted cash, no names.

  After buying the paper and pens, Sarah started driving with no destination in mind. Many of the perpetrators who had orchestrated the kidnappings and murders were gone, along with whoever else they still held. She would never catch up with them spending the next few weeks doing police statements. So she had taken off. Let them figure the whole picture out first and when she finally returned she could fill in some of the blanks.

  Half an hour into driving, she pulled over to urinate in some bushes by the side of the road, far away from the highway traffic. When she got back in the driver’s seat, her arm went numb. The familiar pull from the Other Side caused her to reluctantly grab the pen and then pass out.

  Minutes later, pen held rigid in her hand, she woke to two messages. One said, Fredonia, Arizona, and the other said, 10:18pm, get a drink.

  That was it. No warning. No reason to get a drink. What kind of drink? Was this a celebratory beverage for having stayed alive this long? Or should she walk out to the motel vending machine and purchase a drink there? Providing she was sleeping in a motel and not the backseat of the Tahoe. Most of all, why?

  This was the part she got so pissed off about. If Vivian was willing to take the time to channel through her for important, life-changing reasons, then why be so cryptic? Why not just spill everything she needed to know?

  A feeling of being left in the dark, and without a chance in hell, coursed through her as she started back onto the highway. Fear and other nasty emotions began brewing. She was alone, a little scared and chasing some seriously bad people. Her sister wasn’t helping much.

  A sign passed saying Salt Lake City was still forty-five miles away. She’d be on the outskirts in less than an hour.

  That would work well, as exhaustion was setting in. The last few days had been daunting. She wanted a long hot bath and a warm bed.

  “If something really bad was coming at 10:18pm tonight then why not write that?” she asked out loud. “I might not listen to this message, you know. Let’s see what happens then.”

  She slammed the steering wheel with her hand. She flipped the radio stations around until she heard The Rolling Stones singing Emotional Rescue. Leaving it on that station Sarah started singing along with it, wanting to take herself to a fever pitch of emotional rescue.

  “Why!” she shouted at the windshield. “Why did so many people have to die? Actually, riddle me this, why do we have the killers and kidnappers in this world in the first place?”

  No answer came to her. No one spoke from the Other Side. Her arm didn’t go numb. She was alone in a stolen SUV with no help from anyone and no one knew where she was.

  A lone crusader trying to do the right thing, with an over-active sense of justice borne out of a dead sister that sent messages to right wrongs. Wow, who was the crazy one?

  She drove toward a destiny not of her making. One that continually dragged her down into the bowels of the human condition and soiled her with its dismal filth.

  She drove on, knowing it was the right thing to do. Knowing she had no choice.

  She drove on, alone and weeping.

  Chapter 39

  Parkman stared through his windshield, trying to figure out why she’d run. It didn’t bode well for her.

  The FBI had showed up, and the entire force was scouring the premises. Other than giving a statement, he was no longer needed. Dolan and Esmerelda were being treated and the guy Sarah shot was being tended to before his interrogation.

  A threat of all the crimes perpetrated here falling solely on his plate - including all the murders - got the guy talking. He had no idea where his colleagues were relocating to, but he did acknowledge that they had at least eighteen girls in a church bus.

  Armond Stuart, also known as Jack Tate, a former police officer, brother to Alex Stuart now deceased, was the head of the group. He’d been doing this for dozens of years, allowing other people to fall for his crimes.

  Parkman had missed him by an hour. He called Jill Hanover before she arrived at the compound and asked her to see if they could get Sarah’s credit card and debit card purchases. Sarah wouldn’t get far without money. Then he took the highway heading south toward the Mormon capital, Salt Lake City. If they were in a bus trying to pass it off as a church group, then they may be heading that way.

  He answered his cell as it rang, moving the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. Sometimes those damn things got in the way, but he had no choice. He felt lost without one dangling from his lips.

  “You got anything?”

  “How did you know it was me?” Jill asked.

  “Guessed. Have you got anything on Sarah?”

  “Her credit card paid for gas and a five hundred dollar cash advance at a Chevron about forty miles south of the compound. How close are you to that area?”

  “I’m probably coming up on it soon. I’ll get back to you when I have something. Call me if there are any more pings on her cards,” Parkman said and hung up.

  He pushed the cruiser harder, bringing his speed up to eighty miles an hour and flipped the light on his dash.

  Within ten minutes a Chevron came into view. In a slew of dust Parkman pulled in and stopped by the gas pumps.

  He spit out his toothpick and headed for the store.

  The door banged shut behind him. “I need to speak to the manager,” he said, pulling out his badge. “I need him now. This is an emergency.”

  The young clerk behind the counter turned a little pale. “I’m sorry…ah, he’s not here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “A blond girl, twenty-two years old came through here in a black Tahoe with tinted windows about thirty minutes ago. She was dressed in men’s clothing. Does this ring a bell?”

  The clerk frowned and in an act of trying to show he was thinking, raised a hand to his chin.

  “Look, I need access to your cameras to see if she was here and to see if I can get a plate number. Can you do this for me?”

  The door chimed as a woman came in to pay for her gas. She walked up to the counter, edged around Parkman and tossed a twenty at the clerk. “That’s for pump three.”

  The clerk nodded and the woman was gone.

  “So, can you get me access to your cameras?”

  “Sure, I guess. Come on around the counter.”

  Parkman walked around and sat in the clerk’s chair as he rewound to a half hour ago. It was a digital security system that held a few months memory, the clerk explained.

  In five minutes of watching and two other customers interrupting the clerk, Parkman saw what he was looking for. A black Tahoe pulled in and Sarah got out.

  “This is it. I need a pen and pap
er.”

  The clerk handed it to him. Some of the color had returned to the clerk’s face.

  “What’s your name, kid?”

  “Samuel.”

  “Sam, I like that name. I know a good cop named Sam. He was shot today doing something a lot of cops wouldn’t do. Listen, I need gas. While I finish here, go out and gas up my cruiser. You can see it. I parked by the pumps.”

  “I, ah, I’m not supposed to leave the counter.”

  “Just go and gas up my car. I’m at the counter. What, do you think someone is going to steal from you when you have a cop sitting here? Oh, and can you get me some toothpicks. You guys sell toothpicks, right?”

  The clerk nodded and left. He looked pale again. Maybe that bit about Sam getting shot scared him. Parkman was just making conversation. He didn’t mean it to frighten the kid.

  He looked out the window. Samuel was just getting to the cruiser and opening the tank. He looked back at the screen and pushed play. He watched as Sarah gassed up. She came onto the store’s camera to pay for some snacks. He could see two Red Bulls in her hand. She used the cash machine in the corner and then left the store. He wrote down the Tahoe’s license plate number before she sped off camera.

  The clerk showed back up and handed him a little box of toothpicks.

  “Thanks. I’ve got what I needed. How much do I owe you for the gas and the toothpicks?”

  “Twenty-eight even will cover it,” the clerk said.

  Parkman nodded, paid and thanked him before running out the door.

  He called Jill and gave her the plate number to run through the computers. It belonged to a Suburban owned by a guy who lived ten minutes from where Parkman was right now.

  “That means Sarah switched the plates knowing we’d be looking for her,” Parkman said.

  “Things are looking worse for Sarah every minute, Parkman. Is she still the girl you know or has she lost it?”

  “I have no idea Jill. All I can tell you is, we have to bring her in so we can find out what she knows and where she’s going. Until then I will assume she is clean and I think you should too. She saved my life in that airplane hangar Jill. That guy had Esmerelda and Dolan. He would’ve shot. I know that. Sarah walked up, knocked his gun away and shot him in the thigh. Without her, more people would be dead.”

  “Fair enough, but get her reined in. She’s not a cop and we can’t have vigilantes running around.”

  Parkman ended the call and grabbed the new toothpicks, opening the package and tossing one in his mouth in one fluid motion.

  He felt good knowing he was on Sarah’s tail.

  Better him than some other cop who would shoot first and ask questions later.

  For the umpteenth time that day, Parkman hit the gas hard, flipped his lights and raced at eighty miles an hour after Sarah Roberts.

  Chapter 40

  Sarah started watching for motels as soon as she could see the lights of Salt Lake City. Nothing looked secluded enough but she was getting tired and those two Red Bulls had gone through her already. Either she found a motel soon or she slept in the Tahoe.

  She decided to try on the other side of the city so she continued on the bypass and headed for Veteran’s Memorial Highway. On the south side now, she turned off on Highland Drive and pulled into a Motel 6.

  The sign out front was lit in red announcing vacancy. She parked near the front desk and headed in. The clerk was a young man wearing a nice blue suit jacket.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  Sarah could see he was studying her bruised up face and the men’s clothes she wore. She looked at his name tag.

  “Cliff, I’m in a little trouble. I wonder if you could help me out.”

  “I’m not sure but I could try. What can I do for you?”

  Sarah looked back at the door to see if anyone was listening. She saw the clerk follow her gaze.

  “My boyfriend has been cheating on me. The problem is he gets pretty violent as you can see. When I found out about it, I texted him that I was going back to our place to get my stuff and move out. I figured I had time since he was at work. He beat me there and threw all my stuff into the fire pit in the back. So, I’m wearing his clothes. Then he hit me and I had to run. If he comes looking for me, I’m afraid he’ll kill me.”

  “Why don’t you just call the police?” Cliff asked.

  “Oh no,” Sarah said with extra emphasis on no. “The last time I did that I was in the hospital for weeks. Look, all we need to do is let me park my SUV in the back somewhere and rent me two rooms. One will stay empty with my name on it and the other one I’ll sleep in. I’ll pay you for both, just don’t tell anyone. In the morning I’m gone from here, and his life, forever. That’s all I’m asking. Can you do that?”

  Now the clerk was looking around the lounge as if he was afraid of the boyfriend too.

  “So you’ll pay for two rooms, stay the night and leave and that’s all you want to do?”

  “Yes, I just don’t want to use my credit card.”

  “Okay, that’s fine with me.”

  Cliff processed it and put her in rooms 104 by her name and 107 was to remain empty. She moved the Tahoe to the back and walked up to 107. After using her key to unlock the door, she entered the room. It was small, with one bed. The dresser had a television on it and an open door in the back that presumably led to the bathroom.

  She grabbed the chair from the desk/dresser area and jammed it under the door handle. As she headed for the bed she took out the papers with Vivian’s prophecies and tossed them into the wastebasket. She checked her gun and applied the safety.

  Intent on a few minutes rest, Sarah flopped down onto the bed, arms spread, gun by the pillow, and moaned. She couldn’t find the strength to turn the lamp off by the bed. Her eyes barely functioned when she looked at the alarm clock. It read 7:32pm. She had over two and a half hours until she needed to go for a drink, according to her sister. Whether or not she would still go was a dilemma for another time, Sarah thought as she drifted off to sleep not knowing that a hit man was two hours away from her hotel and closing fast.

  Chapter 41

  Elson acquired the final address from Armond and pulled into the motel parking lot around ten in the evening. He checked that his gun and hunting knife were secure and got out of his car. The parking lot had a random assortment of vehicles: pickup trucks, Saturns, an old Volvo and a beat up Chrysler, but no black Tahoe.

  Armond said it was here so it had to be. Elson started walking. He’d parked in the far corner, so if he had to leave in a hurry he could hustle out to his car and be gone by the back entrance pretty quick.

  He turned a corner and headed for the rear end of the motel. Ten steps later Elson saw the Tahoe. He checked the doors, found them to be secure and walked around to the back of the Tahoe away from view of the motel. Sure that no one was watching, he dropped to the ground and slithered under the chassis. From inside his breast pocket he pulled out a small explosive device. He set the timer for fifteen minutes away at 10:18pm.

  That would give him enough time to deal with the clerk, find Sarah and leave. With the SUV in ruins, the police would have little to go on and nothing to trace back to him.

  He got up, looked around, and sauntered away from the vehicle as if he didn’t have a care in the world, towards the motel lobby.

  The lights were a bright contrast to the summer darkness outside. Even for a small lobby the little Motel 6 had extra lights in the ceiling making the front counter look like the sun was shining through a porthole directly onto it.

  He stepped up and rang the little silver bell.

  A young man walked out from the back office.

  “How can I help you? Do you need a room? We still have a few left.”

  “Actually, I’m looking for my sister. We’re supposed to meet here. She would’ve checked in about two to three hours ago. Younger than me, twenty-two years old. Her name is Sarah Roberts.”

  The clerk took a step back, but
tried to remain professional. He stared at Elson and said, “I’m sorry but I can’t give out information about the people who get rooms here. That’s confidential. But, come to think of it, I don’t remember anyone fitting that description.”

  Elson might have believed that the clerk knew nothing about Sarah if he hadn’t taken a step back.

  He looked over at the door. It had a thumb lock. “Okay, maybe I’ll just call her on her cell phone to see where she is,” Elson said and stepped away from the counter. When he got to the door, he kicked the stopper out, slammed it shut and flicked the lock into place.