by Jonas Saul
“Where are you going?” Parkman asked.
“Myra Canyon Road. I want to see what’s on Mason’s dash cam for myself. Then we need to go to Vernon. I want a firsthand look at what happened at that coffee shop this morning.” He stopped at the door. “I was waiting for you and Sarah before I went to Vernon, but we won’t get Sarah now, so we go. Just the three of us.”
“Three?”
Lee turned to Amparo who was still sitting on the side couch. “Get up. You’re coming with us.”
Amparo shuffled over to Lee who put his hand out.
“Cell phone?”
Amparo frowned, but reached in his pocket and produced an iPhone. Lee dropped it in his pocket.
“I’m not taking any chances, Amparo. Sarah said you’re clean here, but until I know what went down, you were with those other three.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Now, come on. It’ll take us fifteen minutes to get out to Myra Canyon.”
“What about Sarah?” Parkman asked. “You gonna put out a BOLO? GPS the location of the cruiser she’s driving?”
Lee seemed to think about that for a split second. He blinked, then looked at Parkman. “Nothing of the sort. Sarah knows what she’s doing. Bringing her in only risks her life further. As far as I know, she’s gone to do her thing somewhere and that’s the way it’ll stay until Sarah decides to come in on her own.”
“And if she needs help?”
Lee stepped past him. “Then we’ll be there for her when she calls. You and me.”
Parkman followed him out of the office. “Let’s just hope no one has erased any part of that dash cam.” Parkman stayed close to Lee. “For your cops’ sake.”
“I agree,” Lee said as he looked back at Parkman. “For Sarah’s sake, too.”
Chapter 21
Ray Durowitz turned out to be the easiest person to kill. Thirio had struggled with several people in the past, but Ray succumbed without much fight. Halfway through the act, it seemed as though the man welcomed the end of his life. Could someone love a deceased spouse that much to want to die to be with them? Was that love or insanity?
Thirio almost stopped killing the man at one point because he wasn’t doing it for Ray.
“Why does everything always have to be about you?” Thirio shouted at the old man’s corpse. “That’s the problem with our narcissistic society today. Everyone thinks the world revolves around them. The stars, the universe, billions of people on this planet, and yet somehow,” he leaned in over the corpse, “you thought it was all about you. Fucking pathetic.”
He stood up and headed for the back door, Ray’s deposit cheque secured in his wallet.
“And don’t think I don’t see the irony in that statement, Ray. I’m not saying the world revolves around me, either. It isn’t about me. Or you. It’s about the bigger picture. The process. It’s why we’re all here. To check and see who you will follow. God or Satan. That’s the big test of humanity.” He reached the door, took one last scan around the kitchen in case he left something behind, then opened the back door cautiously. “It’s like an election, Ray.” He said, his voice lowered in case someone was in Ray’s backyard. “You vote for the winning team by your actions. Everyone knows what side I’m on. That’s what this is all about. Not individuals. It’s about teams. Good and evil. Sarah’s good. I’m evil. And what does evil do?” Thirio watched the backyard as he talked. No one was in evidence. He closed the back door, walked over to the garden tools, grabbed the pitchfork, and started for his truck.
“What does evil do?” he whispered to himself. “Glad you asked. Evil destroys good.”
He laughed maniacally, tossed the pitchfork into the back of his pickup truck and drove away from Ray Durowitz’s house.
That was his last estimate of the day. There would be no more in the future. He had the money he needed to finish what he started. The pitchfork would be the perfect weapon for Sarah. A man like Thirio didn’t need a gun anyway. Too clean. Too easy.
A pitchfork to pierce her legs, her groin, her face. The anticipation of placing one of the tines over Sarah’s eye, then watching as it squished the small orb aside, moving deeper to impale the soft tissue of her brain, was too much to bear. The mental image of Sarah squirming under that assault gave him an erection.
Thirio drove to the bank Ray’s cheque was drawn on. Once cashed, he left without regard for the cameras that might snap his face. Conventional investigation couldn’t stop him.
Twenty minutes later, Thirio pulled into the parking lot of The Fast Way, one of the largest grocery store chains in British Columbia. He retrieved a bottle of homemade poison from behind his seat, slipped it inside his jean jacket, and got out of the truck.
How many people would get sick because of what he was about to do? How many would die? The bottle contained a mixture of water, hand cleaner, and mice poison. The mice poison was in high concentration, but still low enough that no one would really notice it over the taste of the fruit or vegetable they were eating. Even a rudimentary wash of the vegetables he was about to spray wouldn’t remove all of the poison as certain vegetables would absorb an amount that could cause problems for several people. Especially geriatrics and the very young. It was amazing what information the Internet offered the casual terrorist in the way of information to terrorize.
He strode toward the front of the grocery store, head held high, purpose written all over his face.
While they chased him in Vernon for the three people he’d murdered so far today, then dealt with the large number of people entering the local hospital with symptoms of poisoning, they would have their eye off his denouement, his final act. No one would see it coming.
The destruction of an entire family. That’s where this all started and that was where it would all end.
The Campbell family were the root of his pain, his suffering. If it wasn’t for them, Julia would be alive. If they hadn’t pushed so hard, the feud wouldn’t have started all those years ago. And now, in their honor, he had stricken fear in the public’s heart as the Campbell’s struck fear in his.
They had relatives in Penticton, Kamloops, and Vernon. They were the owners of the grocery store he stood in. Over time, the Campbells hadn’t backed down from the feud between their families. Escalation of incitements continued until recently, and Julia had been killed.
When Thirio was done, every Campbell family business and relative would suffer. He would leave no stone unturned, no member unscathed. With the final act coming, his own family would learn of the sacrifice he had made to set things right. They would understand. He’d let his plans stray to some degree with the innocents that had died along the way, but who was really innocent? And when the Campbells attacked, hadn’t Julia died? Wasn’t she an innocent?
Everyone’s a sinner. We’re born into it.
Nothing justified what they did to Thirio’s family. By that same token, nothing justified what he had undertaken as a course of retribution. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. But who wanted what was right, what was just? This was about good and evil, plain and simple. They thought they were good and Thirio was evil.
His final act now involved Sarah Roberts, providing he could lure her to the Campbell guesthouse. Or maybe he wouldn’t need to. Maybe the psychic bitch would know where to be and when to be there.
That remained to be seen. But for now, he would leave messages for her. She would follow his trail of bread crumbs. She would get closer and Sarah would lose her life. Thirio would win. His time on earth would end and his time in Hell on his new throne would begin.
In the produce section of The Fast Way grocery store, Thirio waited until he was unobserved. Then he eased the bottle out far enough to spray and started with the green apples. He covered them until they glistened. Then the grapes were showered in poison. It would appear to a casual observer that the fruit had been watered by the store’s staff.
A minute later, he sprayed the potatoes, then moved onto the lettuce a
nd onions. He sprayed and sprayed, until the bottle emptied. Then he left the store unobserved and unaccosted, and headed to the other Fast Way on the opposite side of Vernon.
What a lovely day it had turned out to be. There were three Fast Ways in Vernon and three in Kelowna. He had five more bottles of watered mice poison in the truck.
He clapped his hands together, then flapped them at his side as if he had wings. Wings of an angel. A pretty angel like Lucifer.
It was such a lovely day.
Chapter 22
Lee got out of the car and slammed his door before Parkman got out. Something Sarah had said yesterday came back to Parkman. She’d talked about poisons of some kind. But she’d also said the words sharpshooter.
He joined Lee by Mason’s unmarked cruiser. Amparo stayed in the backseat of Lee’s car, not saying a word. Two uniforms stood on either side of Mason’s vehicle. Parkman assumed Mason, Calder, and Waters had vacated the area in ambulances.
Lee barely nodded at the two officers as he dropped in the front seat of Mason’s car and began to fiddle with the dash cam.
“Lee?” Parkman said.
Lee grunted as he worked.
“Are any of these guys snipers? Or have any experience in that field?”
Lee turned to gawk at Parkman. “Not that I’m aware of.” He swiveled back to return to what he was doing.
“Sarah said something about a sharpshooter yesterday.”
“And?”
“Poison.”
Lee stopped what he was doing and stared out the windshield. “You don’t think she meant poison as inside the department, do you?” Slowly, Lee turned to face Parkman.
Parkman shook his head. “She’s never cryptic or spinning riddles. When she says poison, she means the kind that makes people sick and kills them.”
Lee looked away. A moment later the dash cam started up, playing out the scene in front of the car. Parkman leaned down to get a better look.
Mason moved onto the camera, a hand on the butt of his weapon. They watched as everything unfolded on the recording. Sarah attacked Mason after he’d pulled his weapon. Then the video went back to recording the road and the trees a few feet ahead of the car.
“What do you make of that?” Parkman asked.
“It could be argued Sarah did have a weapon trained on him. Mason would just say she tossed it before attacking him.”
“This isn’t a courtroom. We’re not lawyers. Now, I’ll ask you again. What do you make of that?”
Lee set his feet outside the car, took a deep breath and stood up. He moved close to Parkman, a hand on his side, a grimace on his face. Then, in a low voice, he said, “I think Sarah was brought up here to be killed. Calder and Waters blocked access to the road, north and south. Once Sarah escaped Mason, she walked south and had to shoot Waters—and take his car—to get out of here and feel safe.”
Parkman put his hands on Lee’s shoulders. “For a man whose not psychic, I feel that’s a very good depiction of what probably happened. Sarah said they were gunning for her.”
“She did?”
Parkman nodded. “At the airport. She said Mason had hurt an ex-girlfriend of his. A girl named Vicky, I think. Apparently Waters had helped him cover it up. She taunted the men because she saw what they were going to do. Her last words suggested they think about their actions because they would come with consequences.”
“Wow,” Lee said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for bringing you both here. I had no idea Sarah’s life would be in danger.” Lee moved away from Parkman. He stopped by the car’s trunk and stared at the ground. “That’s some girl you’ve got, Parkman. When three cops plan something like this, that person’s usually dead.”
“This is Sarah we’re talking about. She’s never a victim.”
“I can see that.” Lee started back toward his car where Amparo waited patiently in the backseat.
After a moment, Parkman followed. “Where to next?” he asked.
“Vernon. I want to visit the crime scene at the coffee shop.”
Lee’s phone rang. He snapped it up and hit speaker. Parkman hustled over and bent down to listen better.
“Officer Lee here.”
“Lee, it’s Sarah.”
“Sarah,” he nearly gasped her name, fumbling over his tongue. “I’m sorry, you know, what happened out here—”
“No time for that. Come to Vernon. Bring trusted cops.”
“Can do. Where are you?”
“Go to the hospital. Start interviewing people as they show up. Bring a police sketch artist. Then call your son back. It’s the only way we get a composite of the unsub.”
“Where will you be? Can we meet up? I want to talk to you about what happened out here on Myra Canyon Road.” He waited a moment, then said, “Sarah?”
But she’d already hung up.
“Let’s go, Lee,” Parkman said. “No time to waste. Make calls on the way.”
Lee stopped at his car door, holding the handle. “What are we looking for? The hospital will be full of sick people. Who are we to interview?”
Parkman stared at him across the roof. “We’ll interview the people coming to emergency who are suspected of being poisoned recently. I’d say that’s a good start.”
They both dropped into the car at the same time.
Lee swore as he shoved the accelerator to the floor leaving a dust cloud behind as they headed back towards Kelowna and ultimately Vernon.
Five minutes later, Lee made a phone call. A team of officers were to head to the Kelowna hospital, locate Calder, Waters, and Mason, and detain them until Lee could get back.
They were to be held on suspicion of attempted murder.
Chapter 23
Sarah was too late. Vivian had directed her to the first Fast Way grocery store as she entered Vernon’s city limits. While parking the unmarked cruiser, Vivian shouted a location change. Sarah sat behind the wheel wondering how could Vivian be wrong. She’d held back information in the past. She’d even been silent for periods of time. But everything Vivian did held purpose. A greater purpose that Sarah always stumbled upon. But misinformation? That was certainly a first.
Sarah drove out onto the road heading deeper into town, and started off toward another Fast Way on the other side of Vernon.
Could it be the mysterious man with the flapping arms that Sarah kept seeing? As much as she suspected that man as blocking her sister, could he have the kind of power to steer Vivian wrong? If so, they would need to fix that.
Have you seen the man I’ve been seeing? Sarah asked her sister as she waited at a red light.
What man?
The one on the tarmac. In the building. Outside Lee’s office window. Always staring at me, motioning something with his arms. Some kind of signal, or a word.
A few moments passed without anything from Vivian.
Then, There’s no man, Sarah. I would know.
There’s a man, she said matter-of-factly.
Sarah, you’re scaring me.
Sarah focused on the road. Vivian had no idea what was happening, which confused Sarah. How did Vivian account for the times they had been blocked?
Sarah spied the sign for The Fast Way grocery chain coming up ahead.
Vivian, what am I looking for here?
There was no answer.
Vivian?
Nothing.
“Shit,” Sarah said as she slammed the steering wheel. “How am I supposed to stop this asshole if you’re not talking to me?”
She pulled into the parking lot, slowed to let two women walk by, then parked a few spots from the front of the store. Once out of the cruiser, she stood by the car door and scanned the parking lot for anything that stood out. Why was she here? What would the perp be doing traveling from grocery store to grocery store? None of this made sense and the one person who could clear matters up had gone AWOL.
Why tell Lee to go to the Vernon hospital? Shouldn’t she be heading there as well?
“What the fuck?” she whispered to herself.
A light summer breeze stirred up her hair. The sun beat relentlessly on her swollen cheek. She thought about applying some ice to it.
A landscaping pickup truck had parked at a weird angle beside her parking spot. In the rear of the pickup was a pitchfork with three blood-red tines. Who ran a landscaping company with only one tool? Something about the truck bothered her. She asked Vivian if it meant anything but got no answer.
“How good am I without you?” she asked under her breath. “I’m as good as Jack and shit.”
