The Terror (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 18)

by Jonas Saul

  That bone broke because he was stupid enough to try to impress a girl. Tom had accepted that price as a lesson learned, paid in full. There was nothing authentic about impressing a woman in his life after that day. Sure he still went on to charm the ladies, but it was only to sleep with them. He even kept one around—otherwise known as a girlfriend—for a while so he didn’t have to go through the routine of courting each time he needed his urges satisfied.

  That was why Barry Ashford, the good cop that he was, had been such a dear friend. Barry ran a clean establishment for years. The hottest babes always willing to satisfy Tom for such little pay. That was all gone now because of Sarah Roberts. Even Barry was gone, killed and dismembered. For such a man, even if he had done a few things that were suspect under the eyes of the law, that was no way to die.

  Tom rose from the hospital bed and made his way over to the window to look out on Kelowna. Sarah Roberts had some nerve coming back to his city. She had Barry killed the last time she was here and then just up and left the city with impunity. As far as Tom Mason was concerned, that wasn’t an expiable crime. She was culpable and since no official, no authority or court of law was willing to make her pay, it was Tom’s job to exercise judgement.

  His arm throbbed under the cast. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, feeling his body, listening to his heart. He had to keep his blood pressure down. He couldn’t let Sarah Roberts bother him. He was a cop. He would locate her, execute her, then burn her body and destroy any and all evidence. They wouldn’t find her dismembered body like they found Barry’s. No one would ever find Sarah again. He had lived in Kelowna long enough to know where to hide bodies. He knew where to go, how to do it, and how to make sure he would never get caught. He was a cop, after all. And a good one at that.

  He opened his eyes as they watered in anger, his heart beating a solid rhythm in his ears. Adrenaline flowed through his body as his pulse increased. His muscles oozed a sense of increased strength, even with one arm broken. The throbbing in his nose didn’t cause him alarm. Pain reminded him he was alive, awake, and ready to hunt Sarah.

  “A woman,” he muttered to the empty room. “A fucking woman.”

  He placed his fist against the window and slowly crumpled his hand inward until all his knuckles cracked.

  “I’m ready for you, Sarah. You will rue the day.”

  He thought back to what she had said about never losing and how she always won. Or something like that. Then the pretentious bitch went on to threaten his life. Mumbled something about how he would die before she left Kelowna and that she wouldn’t be there long.

  “How dare she?” He spat out the words. “We’ll see who loses, you fucking whore.”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” he shouted. His free hand dropped to his side leaving a tiny smudge where his moistened flesh had marred the pane. The door opened behind him. He didn’t turn around, only stared at the moisture until it disappeared.

  “Mason?” Officer Jeff Calder.

  “What?” Mason kept his voice low.

  “We’re all checked out of this place.” Calder had moved closer. “Want me to take you home?”

  Mason turned slowly from the window. “The security posted to my door will allow this? Or are we under arrest?”

  “I talked to them. They understood the order was to guard your room. Someone said something about attempted murder charges, but that was laughed off. You survived a direct attack on your life. The attempted murder charge is real, but it’s Sarah who will be arraigned, not us. I’m sure something got mixed up somewhere because Lee can’t be reached. He’s somewhere in Vernon.”

  Mason smiled. Vernon. That’s nice. Almost an hour’s drive away in another jurisdiction. Out of the way, which would allow Mason to track down Sarah without interruption.

  He started across the hospital room floor, grabbed his jacket, and stood beside Calder.

  “Are you with me?” Mason asked under his breath.

  “Of course I’m with you,” Calder said.

  Mason detected a slight hesitation in his response but didn’t ask about it. When Calder said he was committed, Mason would hold him to it until the end.

  “Good,” he said. “Then get me out of here and call that friend of yours that tracks phone apps.”

  “Tracks phone apps? You mean Marcus?”

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Why do you want Marcus? You lost your phone?”

  “No, fucktit. I want him to track Waters’ cruiser. Sarah stole it, didn’t she? And since it hasn’t been located we can assume Sarah is still in it.”

  “Wouldn’t Lee have done that already?”

  “No. I doubt it. He brought her here. He’s working with her and not us. And if he did, it doesn’t hurt for us to find out, now does it?” He edged past his friend. “We might get lucky and locate that bitch before anyone else does.”

  “Mason,” Calder said from behind him. “What happens when we find her?”

  Mason stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He squeezed it tight, the skin over his knuckles stretching. After two breaths, he turned back to lock eyes with Calder.

  “You leave that up to me. Just contact Marcus. Find that car and we find Sarah. Then your part is done. Understood?”

  Calder nodded. He rummaged in his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. “Yeah, no problem. I can find the car. That’s easy.”

  Mason opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The guards assigned to his room were gone.

  “Where did they go?” he asked as Calder came out behind him.

  “I relieved them for lunch.”

  “No complications?”

  Calder shook his head. “None.” He clucked his tongue. “Nothing will stick with what your dash cam has on it. Anyway, I got our boys to go for lunch. It’s handled.” He motioned at the phone as if someone had answered. They started for the elevators as Calder spoke into his phone. “Hey Marcus. Calder here. I need you to track a car for me.”

  By the time they exited the building and Calder got Mason situated in the front seat of his cruiser, his phone rang.

  “Calder.” He paused. Then said, “You’re sure about this?” He met Mason’s eyes, then nodded. “Thanks, Marcus. You’re a pal. I owe you one.” He snapped his phone shut and smiled wide.

  “Out with it,” Mason ordered. In his anger at Sarah he wasn’t interested in prolonged games.

  “Waters’ cruiser is in Kelowna. In fact, it’s about a ten-minute drive from us right now.”

  “Then get in. Take me there.”

  “Done and done.”

  Chapter 28

  Sarah pulled into the parking lot of the security store she had visited when she was last in Kelowna. Once parked, she exited Waters’ cruiser and started for the store. Two vehicles up, a bearded man left his car at the same time and started for the store. He walked with purpose, plodding toward the entrance. He beat her there by several steps, then held the door as he’d noticed her coming in behind him.

  “Thanks,” she said as she took the door.

  A large man with black wavy hair, easy six feet and a half feet tall, eased his bulk out from behind the counter and greeted the bearded guy before Sarah. While they talked, she browsed the latest gear and surveillance items they had in stock. She loved the cans of Coke that were storage areas for cash. Just plop the cash inside the can, screw on the top, and leave it in the fridge. A burglar would never know about the few thousand in cold hard cash in the ice box unless of course that particular burglar got thirsty during the heist. The store offered high-end tracking devices and gigantic home security kits with quad cameras and remote access.

  When she moved along to the GPS tracking devices, the bearded customer said something that piqued her interest. He identified himself as a real estate agent. He was looking for information about securing a home for an elderly client.

  This guy is good. What Realtor today went to these lengths to aid in a
home purchase?

  She moved closer to the men to eavesdrop. It seemed Kelowna’s break-and-enter rate was out of control in the downtown area. With the recent terrorist acts, one of his elderly clients wanted advice on securing the perimeter of her home.

  The men edged past Sarah.

  “Be with you in a moment,” the large clerk offered in a soft voice that didn’t match his bulk.

  Sarah smiled, nodded, then continued her browsing. After a minute, the clerk left his bearded customer and shuffled over to Sarah, his long thick shoes clomping her way.

  “How’s your day?” he asked.

  “I’m in need of something unique.” She lowered her voice. “Where would I be able to purchase a Kevlar vest?”

  The clerk rested a hand on the shelf to his left. “Can’t say I would know something like that.” He watched her with a wary eye, his body angling even farther away. “Why would a pretty young thing like you want a bullet-proof vest?”

  “To avoid being killed,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Look, I don’t see that kind of hardware here. I was hoping you’d direct me to where I can find it.”

  “Excuse me,” the real estate agent called from the other side of the small store. “I need you again when you have a second.”

  “Sure thing,” the clerk hollered over his shoulder. He stepped back twice, then wrung his hands in front of him. “Sorry, can’t help you. We offer what you see here.”

  “Your boss. Can he help me? I just need directions to someone in Kelowna that sells that sort of thing.”

  “I am the boss. No one here can help you. Sorry.” He said the last few words with disdain.

  This had been a waste of time. But with a sharpshooter in her future, she had no choice but to pursue this avenue. She needed something for protection.

  “Damn it,” she muttered on her way out the door.

  Back in the unmarked cruiser, she hesitated, the car key in her hand. Maybe the Realtor could help. He would know the city. He might even be able to tell her about the address she was headed to later that evening.

  She slipped the key back in her pocket and exited the car. Leaning on the passenger side to be closer to the agent’s car, Sarah waited for him to exit the store. She didn’t have to wait long. One minute later, he strolled across the parking lot. When he glanced her way, she waved.

  “Hi there,” she said. “I couldn’t help overhearing you’re a real estate agent.” He slowed, probably curious who he was talking to. “Would you have a few moments to offer me a little advice?”

  “Of course.” He stopped at his car door, opened it, then crossed his arms and leaned them on top of the door. “Ask away.”

  “I’m in need of a particular piece of self-defense.”

  “Driving that unmarked cruiser?” the man asked. “What kind of protection would you need?”

  Sarah wiped her mouth and rubbed her hand on her pants. “Let’s start again. I’m Sarah.” She extended a hand. He came off the door, shook it, and went back to his leaning.

  “I’m Trever Florko, at your service.”

  Words flitted into her head. “Century 21, right?”

  “Yes.” He sounded surprised. “How’d you know?”

  “You’re something of a talented agent. Not sure what they call it in your business, but the people of Kelowna know your name.”

  “I try.” His smile was genuine.

  This guy was the real deal. His neatly trimmed beard gave him a GQ look, and his neatly pressed collar shirt wasn’t too business-like that he wasn’t approachable.

  “As I was saying,” Sarah leaned in closer, “I’m in need of a Kevlar vest.” It was out. She waited for his response. He blinked, looked left, then turned back to her.

  “There’s an Army Surplus store a block over on Dayton Street. You might want to try there.”

  “That’s great. Thanks.” She paused a moment, then pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me a little about this street, would you?” She handed him the paper. “Seeing as you’re a Realtor.”

  Trever scanned the street Vivian had given her. He seemed to read it twice, furrowed his eyebrows, then looked up and handed the paper back.

  “As far as I know, the Campbell Winery residence is on that street. Without looking it up online, that would be my guess.”

  “Campbell Winery?” Sarah repeated. The name meant nothing to her.

  “Yeah, it’s a large winery in these parts. Kelowna is home to dozens of wineries. The Campbell’s place is smack up beside the Martin’s winery. They’re the only two addresses on that road. I should know because I love the Campbell’s wine. They do a great ice wine as well.”

  “A winery?” Sarah said, almost to herself. What the hell did Vivian give her the address to a winery for? What could possibly be up there?

  “Anything else I could help you with?” Trever asked.

  “Not at the moment—”

  Get out of sight, echoed through her head.

  Sarah ducked below the edge of the Realtor’s car. Without knowing why she had to drop out of sight, she had to assume the worst.

  “You should get down,” she advised.

  To Trever’s credit, he got down below the door. “Why are we ducking?” he asked.

  “We’ll know in a second.”

  She waited, balancing herself with a hand on the hood of Trever’s car. On the street, a vehicle eased by. Sarah swiveled to watch the vehicle. It was an unmarked cruiser just like Waters’ car, and Calder was driving. Before it drove by, she was sure she saw Mason in the passenger seat because the bandages on his face were visible through the side window briefly.

  “Actually,” she said, her eyes tracking the back end of their car as it slowed and prepared to pull into the parking lot. “You could give me a lift to that Army Surplus store.”

  “That’s not your car over there?” Trever asked.

  Calder had stopped behind Waters’ cruiser. Sarah crawled around the front of Florko’s car until she reached the passenger door. She opened it and slipped into the seat keeping her head down.

  “Come on,” she beckoned. “It’s only one block. Take me to Dayton.”

  Trever hesitated, then sat beside her in the driver’s seat. “One block,” he said. His demeanor had changed.

  There was no time to explain her actions. In one city block, she would be out of his life and there was no danger to him—providing he left immediately. Calder was now peeking inside the front door of Waters’ cruiser.

  Trever backed out of the parking space, then headed for the exit. As they came into view of Calder’s vehicle, Sarah dropped below the line of the window.

  “Is everything okay?” Trever asked, his tone flat. “I’m not aiding and abetting here, am I?”

  “Not at all.” Sarah eased the gun from her waistband. If Mr. Florko needed any persuasion, she couldn’t afford a travel delay. “Just drive.” She leaned up far enough to glance out the side mirror and watch Calder look around the parking lot. He scratched his head and started for the security store.

  “Not a problem,” Trever said, snapping a glance down at the gun in Sarah’s hand. “I’ll just drive.”

  Chapter 29

  “We just missed her,” Calder said as he tried to catch his breath. He had been in the store all of a minute. “She was here,” he panted. “Left with a real estate broker according to the guy behind the counter.”

  Mason punched the dash above the glove box. “What did she buy?” he asked.

  “Nothing. She was looking for a Kevlar vest.”

  They exchanged a knowing glance. Mason knew what Sarah was doing. She was gearing up for a fight, preparing herself for when he came calling. A vest wouldn’t help her, though. He would be shooting for the head.

  “Did he sell her one?” Mason asked.

  Calder shook his head. “No, they don’t stock that sort of thing. All he could tell me was the girl left, talked to the real estate agent by his car, a
nd then they pulled out as we got here.”

  “Did he get the agent’s name?” Why was it like pulling teeth with Calder?

  His partner offered him one of those ear-to-ear smiles. “The agent’s name is Trever Florko.”

  “I know him. Get in here. Call Century 21. Get them to connect you to Trever’s phone.” Calder dropped into the car and yanked his phone out. “He can’t have gone too far.”

  Calder got on the phone and waited for an automated answering machine to put him through to the operator, then he asked for Florko.