by Jonas Saul
Maybe they found Roland’s phone, or parts of it in the debris at the hotel and assumed Hirst had done something rogue and died for his efforts. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t prepared to open Pandora’s box by bringing up the subject.
As everyone filed out of the room, Margot stayed behind. She leaned against the closed door, pulled out a business card and fidgeted with it, sliding it under her fingernails to clean them. Her misty gray eyes were unreadable—a good trait to have when interrogating.
This could go one of two ways. One, they had allowed Sarah to tell her story, which wasn’t the whole story, letting her trap herself before they were to charge her for the murder of two LAPD officers. Throw her to the lawyers and judges and let the courts figure it out.
Or two, this was over and for some reason they were about to let her go.
That was the maddening part. She couldn’t read Margot. The smile on the detective’s face was either a knowing smile, like I got you now, or an admiring one.
“Sarah?” Margot said.
Sarah uncrossed her hands and allowed her body language to be open without responding.
“You telling us everything?” Margot asked.
“If I’m not?” Sarah asked back, waiting for the, or else.
Margot looked up from the business card, tossed it on the table and opened the door.
“Take the card. Call me if think of anything else. But stay close for a few days. There are more statements to go through.” She paused for a moment, then met Sarah’s gaze. “We lost a lot of bikers at that motel. But hey, that’s greed for you.”
That was the first time anyone spoke of the bomb or its casualties. Even though it appeared that Margot was letting her go and not charging her with anything, Sarah remained seated.
“Greed?”
Margot shrugged. “It’s sad, but that’s the nuts and bolts of it.”
“I’m missing something.”
“After you left the room, the bikers came upstairs to see where the girl came from who stole their bike. They were probably hunting for blood. The state Detective Hirst was in must’ve startled them. Emergency services were already en route. Hirst talked them into carrying him out of the room, wounds and all. He wanted as far from that briefcase as possible.”
The only way Margot could know all this was the statements of others as Hirst most surely died in the explosion. But if he had been carried out before the explosion—Sarah started to wonder if Hirst might be alive.
Margot moved into the room and braced her hands on the back of the chair opposite Sarah. “These guys, with Hirst bleeding out from three gunshot wounds, carried him all the way to the front desk where paramedics were arriving. Then they headed back to the room to look for clues to who you were. Half a chapter of the L.A. Riders spilled into room 224 to decide what to do to the chick who stole their bike, when one of them opened the briefcase.”
“Oh, no.”
“Exactly.” Margot pushed off the chair and opened the door to Interview Room Seven again. “You won’t have to worry about any biker gangs coming after you. The media got wind of the story and twisted it to look like a biker war with the only one making it out alive was some biker chick who slid under the rig that killed the guy chasing her.”
Sarah nodded. This was good. She couldn’t write it this good.
“So let’s leave it at that,” Margot added.
Sarah got up from the table. She didn’t need to be asked twice. At the door, Margot grabbed her arm.
“Cool?”
Sarah nodded. “Let’s leave it at that,” she repeated.
“Good. Now, you’re going to need a ride.”
“A ride?”
They stepped out into the hallway.
“Of course. The hospital is a bit of a walk from here.”
“I can only assume you’re taking me to see Hirst?”
“If he’s out of surgery and the doctor will let us in. He asked for you before going into surgery. Said you saved his life. Something about jumping the guy. Hirst said he was sure you would eat a bullet for him. He said that if you made it, he wanted to see you when he wakes up in the ICU.” Margot was shaking her head. “Wait until I tell him you stole that Harley and almost died going after the perp.”
As Margot talked, a feeling of elation akin to freedom overwhelmed Sarah. Hirst was alive. He didn’t die and no one told her. Hirst knew she was innocent. Hirst trusted her and saw what she did for him. Things would work out after all.
They started down the hallway, Margot in the lead.
“Oh, and a man named Parkman is at the hospital. He came here first. Asked for you, but you were busy with us. Said he’d wait with Hirst. Funny guy, though.”
“Why funny?”
“He had a toothpick in his mouth like he just had a steak and he wouldn’t offer another name. Just Parkman. Who has only one name?”
Sarah smiled.
Those toothpicks. He probably found a flavored one.
“Parkman is only known by one name,” Sarah said. “I’ve never heard another for him. Maybe one day I’ll ask about that.”
It felt like a palpable weight had been lifted. She followed Margot to an unmarked LAPD cruiser with a lighter step.
Chapter 35
On the way to the hospital, Margot drove without talking. They had said enough in room seven. It gave Sarah a chance to reflect and make peace with Vivian.
For the first time in days Vivian’s presence was close by. Sarah felt her intimately close, lingering inside her head, listening to Sarah’s thoughts, a feeling still somewhat foreign, but welcoming.
The knowledge Vivian imparted to Sarah in a flash was that Vivian’s memories would stop now. The horrid images would disappear and cease to come back, but Vivian couldn’t help what was already there. Now that Cole was dead, Sarah could move on as well. But she would have to do it without Aaron.
Sarah wiped a tear away before Margot could see it when Vivian made her aware that Aaron was already in Toronto. He headed back when Parkman got to L.A. and told him Sarah was fine. She wasn’t even in the hospital. Only scrapes and bruises this time. Aaron was supposed to head to Toronto anyway, but it still hurt for him to leave this way. She was supposed to call him. They could talk. But Vivian was clear when she said that Aaron was moving on for now.
Vivian allowed Sarah to feel what Aaron was going through. Her choice was this life. His choice was Sarah. He had never been right with what she did and having to chase her around and never know if she was alive or dead had taken its toll on him.
Sarah understood but didn’t like it. She’d call him. They’d talk. She loved Aaron and he loved her. But he was free to do as he wished. She would never hold him back.
It was time to let Aaron go.
Vivian whispered some of what was coming and why it was more important than ever to work alone. This time it wouldn’t be so physical, so life and death for Sarah. Vivian dropped a few words, a few hints into Sarah’s consciousness that put a mental picture together.
All Sarah had to do was to find a certain number of people and change their plans. If their plans succeeded, it would mean the death of many.
It would be easy. Vivian would supply the locations and times. All Sarah had to do was convince them to stop going forward.
Sure she had to convince them with a gun, but once convinced, everything would be fine and Sarah’s job would be complete.
Yeah, sounds easy, Vivian. Famous last words.
Do this and succeed, Vivian had whispered as Margot pulled into the hospital’s parking lot, or you will be unlucky. Who wants to be known as The Unlucky?
Sarah shuddered in the seat. As the word unlucky floated through her mind, she had a premonition of death, even torture. A feeling of being on the run like never before.
“What have you got planned, Sis?”
The car stopped in a spot.
“What was that?” Margot asked.
“Oh nothing. Talking to myself.”
<
br /> “Right. Let’s go visit the cop whose life you saved.”
“Let’s roll.”
Sarah got out of the car and followed Margot into the hospital, putting Vivian’s thoughts away for now.
The images of what was next for Sarah were just too chilling.
Afterword
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to another segment in Sarah Robert’s life. I hope you enjoyed the ride as Sarah found closure to a past that had haunted her for quite some time. Sarah’s evolving, maturing still, her attitude calming and her understanding of the world in relation to her gift developing in a way that allows her to do good in a world filled with bad. She’s ready for The Unlucky, Book Thirteen, and many more to come.
I hadn’t visited my brother’s grave in over a decade. Now, before I get into trouble for that statement, let me explain. My brother is buried over four thousand miles from where I live. For the first time in nearly six years this summer, I found myself in Ontario, just east of Toronto, where he’s buried and decided to make the jaunt over to pay my respects and leave flowers by his headstone.
My twelve-year-old daughter was with me when we found the graveyard and pulled into a strip mall across the street intent on purchasing flowers. Neither store we visited had flowers for sale. Seriously unprepared but at the cemetery already, my daughter and I decided to drive over and visit his grave anyway, sans flowers. (I know, how could I?)
As we headed to our car, a rented Ford Fusion by the way, a raven fluttered from the lip of a garbage bin, startling both of us. When it did, a large bang emanated from inside the garbage bin, as if someone threw a chunk of metal inside, yet there was no one around and nothing was tossed into it.
We looked at each other over the roof of the vehicle, eyes wide, both thinking the same thing.
My dead brother just said hello. There was no explanation for the banging that resonated from the garbage bin.
Without debating beliefs, let me tell you that I believe in this sort of thing. Whether it truly was my brother or not, doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. What matters to me is that I believe it was him and he wanted us to know that he was there.
We got in the Ford, discussed what happened, and then headed over to the cemetery. Once parked by the mausoleum, my daughter and I ventured out to locate his gravestone. My brother’s epitaph reads, Life Goes On, just as Vivian’s does.
Finally, as we headed back to the car, not five feet from the vehicle, the car alarm goes off. Now let me explain, there was no rational reason for this or any evidence to offer an explanation. The cemetery was virtually empty. No one bumped the car. The keys were safely in my pocket. There wasn’t even a wind. Just the car alarm going off.
Again, my daughter and I eyed each other with a knowing stare.
I nodded, said a few words under my breath to my brother, and flicked the button to turn the alarm off.
After this experience, I had to write it in the first chapter with Aaron and Sarah at the cemetery. Sometimes not everything you read is fiction.
The name of the Amy Greg Psychiatric Hospital is entirely fiction. It’s the name of the hospital in the first novel I ever wrote, Bad Vibes. Bad Vibes is still on my hard drive but it isn’t published at this time. I miss that story and the Amy Greg facility so I had to breathe a little life into it in this story.
Lastly, the receptionist, Sandra Gonzales, is named after one of my favorite readers. Sandra is an avid reader with a huge heart. She often sends me bits of wisdom and quips on writing and reading. Every time I hear from Sandra, I can’t help but smile. If only the world could be filled with more Sandras, we’d all be better off. So, to Sandra Gonzales, thank you for being there and thank you for reading. May you continue your journey on this plane of existence for decades more, reading to your heart’s content. And thank you for allowing me to name a character after you. God Bless.
And now off to write the finishing touches of The Unlucky so I can release it shortly after this one. There’s a twist in The Unlucky that some of you might find unsettling, but hold on until the end and see how it all plays out. I hope you’re still with me after that—or with Sarah, I mean.
Take care of yourself and your loved ones and stay healthy.
Oh, and get caught reading.
I love you all,
Jonas Saul
Good reviews are important to a novel’s success. If you enjoyed The Haunted, please leave a review wherever you purchased the book.
Sincerely,
About Jonas Saul
Jonas Saul is the author of the Sarah Roberts Series and The Mafia Trilogy. Visit his Amazon page for a complete listing of his books.
Visit his website, www.jonassaul.com for upcoming release dates, and to sign up for the newsletter. Jonas lives in Washington, USA.
Contact Jonas Saul
Website: http://www.jonassaul.com
Twitter: @jonassaul
Email: [email protected]
Or send mail to Jonas Saul ℅ Imagine Press Inc.:
American Address:
900 Front Street, Suite #137
Leavenworth, Washington
98826
United States
Canadian Address:
101 - 1865 Dilworth Drive
Suite 366
Kelowna, B.C.
V1Y 9T1
Canada
Jonas Saul Titles
The Sarah Roberts Series
1. Dark Visions
2. The Warning
3. The Crypt
4. The Hostage (*Featuring Drake Bellamy from The Threat)
5. The Victim (*Featuring Aaron Stevens from The Specter)
6. The Enigma
7. The Vigilante (*Featuring Aaron Stevens from The Specter)
8. The Rogue (*Featuring Darwin and Rosina Kostas from The Mafia Trilogy)
9. Killing Sarah
10. The Antagonist
11. The Redeemed
12. The Haunted
13. The Unlucky
14. The Abandoned (Coming Soon)
The Mafia Trilogy (Starring Darwin and Rosina Kostas)
1. The Kill
2. The Blade
3. The Scythe
Standalone Novels
1. The Threat (Starring Drake Bellamy)
2. The Specter (Starring Aaron Stevens)
3. A Murder in Time (Starring Marcus Johnson)
4. The Snake (Coming Soon)
Short Stories
1. The Burning
2. The Numbers Game
3. Trapped
4. Twisted Fate (Tales of Horror)
Compilations
1. Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 1-3
2. Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 4-6
3. Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 7-9
4. Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 10-12
5. The Mafia Trilogy
6. The Jonas Saul Thriller Trilogy (The Threat, The Specter, A Murder in Time)
PUBLISHED BY:
Imagine Press Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-927404-37-9
The Haunted
Copyright © 2014 by Jonas Saul
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Beginning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
/> Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Afterword
About the Author
Table of Contents
Beginning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
