by Lisa Ladew
But what about Sara? a small part of his mind offered up. What about her? She’s probably fine somewhere, maybe having a good laugh over this, Jerry thought bitterly. But that’s not right. She’s not that type. There must have been a reason for what she did. Didn’t there?
Jerry drove through town, staying off the freeway for now. He remembered all too well how Craig and Hawk had tracked Norman Foster using the freeway overpass cameras when Foster had kidnapped Emma and Vivian. He needed to quit thinking about Sara and focus on the task at hand. Getting his ass out of this city before he ended up in a small stinking cell for the next 2 or 3 days was job number 1.
Jerry drove and tried not to think. Las Vegas. That would be the perfect place to let this blow over. And maybe do a little work on forgetting about Sara and her mess for good.
Chapter 15
Sara pulled the motel door shut behind her, polishing the handle with her flesh colored gloves as she did so. She didn’t look around, but her peripheral vision told her all was quiet in the parking lot. She walked across the street, the other way from her car. She entered and exited several stores and found a crowd of people to walk with. She shed her gloves and added sunglasses and scarves from her bag as it seemed prudent to do so. By the time she walked a block north of the motel again to get back to her car, she looked like a different person.
She drove away feeling the mid-afternoon sun on her arms. She lifted her face to the window and smelled the breeze. It still smelled hot and dry, like always, but there was an attractive lunch-time scent of desserts and pizza too. She was starving. Her mind did not turn to Manny. She did not brood over her kill. The act of killing never bothered her. It was what she had been raised to do, wasn’t it? Her father had started her with a mini bolt youth .22 rifle at 5 years old, shooting rats at a friend’s farm. The rifle had been a bit too big for her, but she was good with it anyway. By the times she was 7, she could hit running mice in the head, every time. That had only been the beginning of her weapons and killing training, but it was one of her most conflicted memories. Her and her dad, riding in the pickup together, the guns stowed behind the seat. The feel of the trigger under her finger, the loud crack of the bullet leaving the gun, and the instant satisfaction of the rodent falling down in its tracks. It seemed like a good memory, but it was all mixed in with her current feelings about what she’d been trained to do her whole life. She just avoided those feelings.
Killing people was different than killing rats, but she’d never killed a person who wasn’t just a rat in disguise. Men and women who didn’t value human life, human pain, human sacrifice. Who made their living exploiting other people, especially women and children. Those were the rats she took out these days. Manny had been her first kill in over a year. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She knew for sure it was the easiest and cleanest way out of the mess for Jessica and Zoey. But what did it say about her and her place in the world now?
But then she realized again that she didn’t have a place right now. She wasn’t a hired killer ridding the world of evil men for her country anymore. She’d done Manny for free. No, not for free. For Jessica and Zoey. Jessica didn’t know that Sara had killed Manny for her, and she would no doubt be appalled if she ever found out. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, Jessica was smart enough to know that the only way she would truly be free was with Manny dead. Guys like Manny meant it when they said “if I can’t have you, no one will” and they didn’t think twice about hurting and even sometimes killing ‘their’ women. Sara knew that as well as she knew the lines and planes of her own face.
Back to the plan for now, she thought. She had really enjoyed being Sara Acosta. Now to try her hand at being Brook Barnes, stay one step ahead of her pursuers, and see if another, new life would be as enjoyable as the last one. Not without Jerry, her traitor mind whispered to her. She cut that voice off viciously. Jerry was an enigma, an unknown. And nothing but trouble, she stated emphatically. No, he was the real thing, the turncoat in her brain insisted. She shook her head and pressed her lips together. She didn’t know what Jerry was or wasn’t, but it didn’t matter, because she was never going to see him again.
The traitorous voice in her brain kept quiet, perhaps knowing that, at least was true. Sara turned her full attention back to the road and headed towards Jessica’s hotel.
She parked and jogged up to Jessica’s room, excited to see how baby Zoey was doing. She pressed her ear to the door, smiling at the pop music she heard blaring from inside. Jessica was getting to be a teenager. How wonderful. She knocked. The music instantly cut off. Sara smiled into the peephole and waited.
Jessica tore the door open. “Brook!” she cried, baby Zoey held in her arms, her eyes filling with tears.
“Oh, hey, what’s wrong?” Sara asked, moving inside the room and shutting the door, then hugging Jessica and moving her to sit on the bed.
“Nothing, really, I mean, I just am so happy to see you. I just. I’ve been thinking and you’ve been so good to me and I’ve been here just me and Zoey and …” the tears really started to come now. Jessica’s breath hitched. Baby Zoey looked at her mom and burst into loud tears herself.
Jessica got up off the bed and began to rock and shush Zoey, even while her own tears continued to roll down her face.
Sara watched her with admiration in her heart. Here was this girl, really little more than a baby herself, and her mothering instinct was as strong as any Sara had ever seen. Sara said a mental prayer of thanks to whatever fate had brought her and Jessica together. Jessica and Zoey were going to do great. They just needed a little helping hand.
Jessica wiped her face and managed to get Zoey quiet. She sat down next to Sara again. “I just wanted to say thanks. No one has ever been good and kind to me, really in my whole life, but especially since I - since I’ve been here in Las Vegas. And well, I never really knew that it could be different, not until I had Zoey. And people here were still mean to me, but I couldn’t stand to be mean to Zoey. So I had to learn - or teach myself how to be kind.” She looked at Sara, her large brown eyes swimming in tears and emotion. “You know what I mean? I just didn’t know how to be nice to someone because no one had ever been nice to me. But because of Zoey I learned. I’m not going to hit her because she’s crying, or throw her across the room because she pooped in her diaper.” Jessica’s face twisted with horrible memories. “She’s just so tiny, you know?”
Sara nodded. She did know. She reached out and caressed Zoe’s impossibly soft cheek. Zoey grabbed her finger and locked eyes with her solemnly.
Jessica went on, smiling at Zoey. “But I was trapped. And I didn’t know how to get un-trapped. But then you showed up. And even if Manny comes and finds me and makes me go back, I’ll always remember what you did for me, Brook. How you treated me like a human being. What you did for me and Zoey.” Jessica turned her smile up towards Sara, but Sara thought it was the saddest smile she’d ever seen. She understood then that Jessica thought this was only a temporary respite, and she’d be back with Manny by the end of the week.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about Jessica. Would you be willing to leave Vegas? Go somewhere far away? Go to school or something maybe?”
Jessica considered. “Manny will follow me, you know.”
Sara shook her head. “I’ll make sure he can’t find you.”
Jessica smiled that sad smile again, looking as if she didn’t believe it for a second. “Maybe.”
“Look Jessica, I know what men like Manny are all about. I know what they respond to. Let’s just say I could … I don’t know, buy his cooperation. Would you be willing to leave then? Start a new life for you and Zoey?”
Some new, fierce emotion dawned on Jessica’s face. It started slowly, with a curve of her lips. Her eyes opened wide and fixed beyond the walls of the small hotel room. Suddenly Sara could see the woman she would be. Tingles marched up and down Sara’s arms.
“Yes!” she whispered, emotion filling the word,
making it pregnant with purpose.
“Do you think your friend, the one with the baby, would go with you?”
“Amanda? Maybe.” She turned her eyes to Sara. “You wouldn’t make us go home or call our families?”
Sara tucked a piece of Jessica’s silky hair behind one dainty ear. “No baby. I know that sometimes home is worse than the streets, or even worse than pimps who hit and threaten.”
Jessica’s eyes filled with tears again. She nodded savagely and turned away, leaping off the bed and making a show of bouncing baby Zoey.
Oh dear one, I’m so sorry that your life up till this point has been sharp tongues, heavy hands, and maybe worse. It can get better. I promise. Sara sent the thought to Jessica, not speaking it out loud because she knew Jessica wouldn’t be able to fully believe it until she experienced it.
Jessica turned to her, determination in her eyes. “I’ll go. And I’ll ask Amanda if she’ll go. But no matter what, I will go. I don’t want to stay here in Vegas. And I’ll go to school. Anything you think I should do, Brook.”
“Great!,” Sara said. “I’ll start working on the details when I leave here. But first we should have lunch. You got any of that $200 left?”
Jessica smiled and opened a drawer in the desk. She handed Sara $174.
“Goodness Jessica, you should have spent most of this! You have to eat! Zoey depends on you for her nutrition. Look, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Sara ordered room service and when the food cart came, it held enough food for 4 women. Sara and Jessica ate till bursting. Sara left Jessica with $200 more, telling her to be sure to spend at least $15 for each meal. She asked her not to leave the room again and told her she would bring her news of her new life soon. Sara kissed baby Zoey on one sleepy eyelid, then slipped out and headed to her hotel. She had a lot of work to do.
***
Jessica sat at the computer in her hotel room. She’d contacted a lawyer in Southern Idaho about setting up a trust for the two girls, to buy them food, housing, basic needs, and schooling for the next 5 years. Together, they’d estimated how much that would be. She was in the process of transferring $250,000 into the trust when her computer speakers sounded an ear-splitting alarm.
Damnit! Her mind screamed in alarm louder than the speakers and her heart doubled its speed. Within an instant though, old habits dropped a cold towel over her panic. Her hands unconsciously flew to her body, patting herself down to ensure her gun and knives were all in place exactly where they were supposed to be. That done, she cleared the desktop in one grand swipe, moving everything but the keyboard and monitors to another desk. She sat down, fingers zipping over the keyboard, pulling up the security camera that had spotted the face that triggered the alarm.
Her heartbeat now trebled. It couldn’t be. She took over control of the camera and zoomed in on the face.
It was.
Jerry Mansko strolled through the neighboring casino floor.
Chapter 16
Sara let go of the controls for the camera. If she kept them too long casino security could get suspicious. If their IT guy was good enough he would find her piggybacking off their cameras. If he was amazing, he could probably trace her general location. That would be a disaster.
The camera on Jerry zoomed out, then he walked out of frame. She locked onto him with her own software, and it automatically jumped from camera to camera as he walked out of sight in one and into sight in another.
Sara’s mind careened out of control. Her thoughts came fast and severe, and each one seemed to contradict the last.
He’s agency.
He’s not. He can’t be.
Then what is he doing here?
It’s a coincidence.
It can’t be.
What’s wrong with him? He looks so forlorn, so lost. He’s not working or he wouldn’t look like that.
He is working, and he came here to find me. But how? And if he’s following me what took him so long? And if he didn’t follow me, how did he find me?
No matter who his friends were, and no matter how hard he’d pursued her, it didn’t make sense to Sara that Jerry was agency. If he was, he would have jumped her a year ago, not patiently tried to win her over. She never got any double-crossing vibe from him, ever. He seemed to be genuine every step of the way. But if he wasn’t agency, and he was exactly what he seemed to be, then how was he currently less than a 1/2 mile away from her in a city over 800 miles away from where she’d left him?
Jerry seemed to be wandering aimlessly. He didn’t look with interest at anything. She could see none of the spark - none of the generous, joking passion that she associated with him. His open, handsome face looked dead. His clothes looked rumpled, as if he had slept in them. He traversed through the entire casino floor, walked up the three, red-velvet steps into the lobby, and stood in line at the checkin desk.
He doesn’t have any bags.
As she watched, his eyes wandered to the bar. He looked lost, sad, lonely. To her, he almost looked like a scared 8 year old, separated from his mom in the crowd, and trying not to cry. Sara’s heart went out to him. She wanted to know what had happened. What made him look like that? It couldn’t be because she’d disappeared, could it? It’s not like they’d ever had any more than the one date. It’s not like she’d ever promised him anything, or even hinted that maybe there could someday be something between them.
She leaned forward, trying to see him better. Her hand swept her forehead, even though her hair was back. She held her breath and studied his face. A soft part of her mind, one connected to her heart, whispered to her that if she were ever going to have a chance at real life, normal life, this tall, sweet, funny man in front of her could be her way in.
Have you forgotten who you are?! the other part of her mind snapped. She was starting to feel slightly schizophrenic with these two completely opposite voices in her head. Bitterly, she named this one Miss-All-Business. She recognized it immediately as the voice that talked her through killing someone. It was all business, and couldn’t be swayed with tears, reason, logic, or even her own pain. Miss-All-Business was single-minded, and very cold.
Go to him, Miss-All-Business jeered at her. And let’s just say he’s not agency, he wasn’t recruited recently, and he’s exactly who he says he is. And then you can find his head on the front seat of your car someday. Or his blood can drench you when he opens the door for you and triggers an explosion. You can play the ‘I’m-a-normal-person’ game as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean you could ever dare to have a boyfriend, a lover, husband, a child, or even a friend. You’re not normal. You’re just playing normal until you are found. And if you don’t want to see him die a painful death in front of you, you’ll just get out of Vegas and pretend you never saw him. Go, now and don’t look back.
As she watched, war raging in her head, he abandoned the checkin line and walked to the bar. She got a full view of the back of him. What she saw made her breath lodge in her throat. She knew she had to chance it. She took the controls of the camera again and zoomed in on Jerry’s athletic backside.
He was carrying a gun under his shirt. A big one from the looks of it.
So if he’s not agency, and this is just a coincidence, why is a fireman carrying a concealed weapon on his vacation?
Sara didn’t know, but now she knew she couldn’t even just make a clean break. She had to know what he knew at any cost.
***
Sara watched him for an hour. Miss-All-Business had strangled the voice of her heart into submission. All Sara heard now was a whoosh in her ears, counting time with her bodily functions. She sat in her chair and watched as Jerry nursed three beers and talked to the bartender, worry and heartache clearly stamped on his face. Miss-All-Business didn’t care about his worry and heartache at all. At one point she grabbed her bag and inventoried her drug stash. No scopolamine left. That was OK. She wouldn’t use scopolamine on Jerry anyway. Her heart said no way. Her heart still gave him a 60%
chance of being completely innocent, even if he was carrying a gun. And she would never use scopolamine on innocents. It was too dangerous. She did have some sodium pentathol, but if he didn’t stop drinking soon, she wouldn’t even feel comfortable using that.
Sodium pentathol wasn’t quite as tricky as scopolamine, and it had almost zero risk. You couldn’t legally use it as a ‘truth serum’ these days, but it was still useful if you didn’t need a confession that could hold up in court, and if you knew what you were doing. She didn’t need anything to hold up in court, and she did know what she was doing. All she needed was a little time alone with him. Sodium Pentathol tended to make people try to please the questioner, and it made them recite their life stories, even to a simple yes or no question. Sara knew how to get around these two issues though, to get to the real truth. She’d become quite good at it over the years.
Finally, Jerry pushed the bottle away, left a few dollars by his napkin, and headed back out the door to the check in line again. Now was the tricky part. She needed to know what room he was in. At the very least she needed to know what floor he was on. But how to find out? She might be able to hack into the hotel’s computer system, but she didn’t have the computer programs to make it easy. She could go down in the hotel lobby and stand close to him as he got his room assignment, hoping to overhear what floor he was on. She certainly couldn’t just follow him into the elevator. The chance that he would recognize her was too great, even if she wore one of her small disguises. Momentarily, she wished for a hijab, the Muslim dress that covered the hair - or even better a niqab, which covered everything but the eyes. Both were great disguises in America. Most Americans had a strange aversion to seeing them, and would purposely not look at anyone wearing one. But she didn’t have one. That wasn’t something you could just pick up at a Las Vegas strip mall. Oh well, she’d have to work with what she had. She put on a large pair of sunglasses and a scarf, plus a large shirt hat hung almost to her knees and hid her shape.
